


When Life Gives You...

by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying



Series: Collaborations [71]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Gets Therapy, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes has Kids, Bucky burns them to the ground with extreme prejudice, Co-Parents Bucky and Steve, Depressed Steve Rogers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, HYDRA is a bunch of assholes, Kid Fic, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Bucky Barnes, Recovery, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Has Panic Attacks, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers gets therapy, Therapy, and actually fucking deals with it(eventually)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProofOfConcept/pseuds/ProofOfConcept, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Steve holds his shield up in a ready position; Tony had scanned this building, declared no living inside, but that doesn't mean that there couldn't be automated security. Natasha is behind him, watching his six while staying behind the cover of the shield and his body. They clear the building methodically - and when they get to a conference room, they aren't surprised by what they see."He beat us here again," Steve observes, moving towards the neat stack of boxes that are likely filled with folders and other paper records. "At least this time the bloodshed was kept to a minimum."





	When Life Gives You...

Steve holds his shield up in a ready position; Tony had scanned this building, declared no living inside, but that doesn't mean that there couldn't be automated security. Natasha is behind him, watching his six while staying behind the cover of the shield and his body. They clear the building methodically - and when they get to a conference room, they aren't surprised by what they see.

"He beat us here again," Steve observes, moving towards the neat stack of boxes that are likely filled with folders and other paper records. "At least this time the bloodshed was kept to a minimum."

"Don't get your hopes up," Natasha advises him. She moves over to the nearest of the boxes and lifts the lid, but barely glances inside. "There was hardly anyone here to begin with. He's not de-escalating, Steve."

"There weren't that many people at the last one, either," Steve points out. "Either he's de-escalating, or he's run out of targets that are still in major operation."

"Do you see anyone left alive?" Natasha challenges. "Sure, he hasn't painted the walls with their blood this time, but that could just mean that no one here had a personal hand in what happened to him. He killed everyone here with head shots unless they fought back. He executed them."

"They were Hydra," Steve says bluntly. "You know I don't like killing people, but even I would be hard-pressed not to kill any Hydra goon we came across. Can you blame him for wanting to make sure the organization responsible for the seventy _years _of hell he went through is thoroughly wiped out this time?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him. "You know I don't blame him for anything," she says, "least of all this. But you also know he's not going to stop."

Steve sighs. "I know. But how the hell are we supposed to catch up with him? He's putting that ghost story reputation to good use."

Natasha smiles. "We're not supposed to catch him, Rogers. We're just the clean-up crew."

"Well, then let's get to work."

* * *

He's spent a long time working up to this. Most of the higher-ups are dead; all of the doctors and scientists that ever touched him have been eviscerated; many of the key facilities have been destroyed. His work isn't over, may never be over, but this. This might just be the beginning of the end.

He knows what's kept in here. Those who came after him, who were made to replace him. Brutal, volatile creatures who were locked away when they proved impossible to control and left here to collect dust. Hydra's last remaining weapon, and Bucky Barnes is about to rip it from their hands.

The facility, as expected, is deserted. It doesn't take him long to find them, sleeping as they have been for the last ten years at least. Maybe more. They're perfect, untouched by time; without searching the archives for the details of their last mission, it's impossible to tell. Bucky doesn't have time, and what's more, he doesn't care.

They all die while they sleep. He moves around the chamber at a leisurely pace, and dispatches them without emotion. When it's over, he finds a console and checks it over, runs perfunctory searches for life signs out of habit more than anything - and frowns when a light blinks into existence in a chamber he doesn’t remember being there. It's deep underground, well below this one, and it has to be a glitch, it has to be. No one's been here for years. But he checks it out anyway.

The elevator screeches in protest, but it takes him down to the lowest level of the facility all the same. The chamber he finds there is much smaller than the last and, as he suspected, empty. He almost turns around and goes straight back into the elevator, but a tiny red light in the furthest corner of the room catches his attention. A flick of a switch floods the chamber with light, and Bucky loses his breath.

Another cryo chamber, much smaller than the ones stored upstairs - and inside, sleeping peacefully, is a young girl.

* * *

"_Do you speak English?_" Bucky asks, in Russian. It's been twenty six hours since he woke the girl from cryo sleep and carried her from the facility. They're holed up in a safehouse in Russia, couldn't get much further when the girl can barely walk and won't speak to him. He should have killed her, he knows this, but he couldn't. He can't. He tries again. "_What is your name?_" And again, in English. "Do you have a name?"

The girl stares at him for another moment, too-intelligent eyes bright in such a young face. Eventually, she says, "_Twenty-two._"

Bucky blinks. This, he realises, he should have guessed. "_Twenty-two,_" he repeats. "_They didn't give you a name?_"

She frowns. "_They called me Twenty-Two,_" she says. "_That is what a name is._"

"_No_," Bucky tells her. "_That is a number. I was the first. But before that, my name was James._"

"James," she repeats, the word clearly foreign to her. "_I was only Twenty-Two._"

"_Then you can choose a name. Or I can give you one._"

She shrugs. "_You can choose._"

This, Bucky realises suddenly, is a great responsibility. How is he supposed to choose? He could name her something Russian, something that would sound familiar to her - but, no. Perhaps she was made by Russians, but that's not who she is. Not anymore. He clears his throat. "Sarah."

"Sarah," she repeats, clearly testing unfamiliar syllables. After a moment, she nods. "_It is a good name._"

"_Yes,_" Bucky agrees. "_A strong name._" He hesitates, and then asks, "_You realise that I have taken you from them?_"

"_They did not want me,_" Sarah says matter-of-factly. "_They said that I failed. They will not care that you have me now._"

Anger flares to life white-hot in Bucky's chest. "_You did not fail_," he snarls, "_they did._"

For the first time, Sarah flinches from the man in front of her - she's been calm, accepting of her new circumstances, but when he looks angry, this man looks more like the Winter Soldier whose videos she had been shown as a demonstration of the type of soldier she would one day be partnered with. "_Soldat,_" she says, alarmed and pleading. "_I could not complete the training. They were right to store me. I was lucky they did not kill me as they did Twenty-One._"

Bucky makes an effort to calm himself. "_They stored you because they found something different. Something faster, something stronger, something older. It is not a failing on your part. That they tried to train you at all is a failing on theirs._"

Sarah doesn't seem entirely reassured, but her posture relaxes as Bucky's does. "_It was their job,_" she says, slowly, clearly trying to make sense of what is going on. "_To train me. Your job - what is it now? Are you going to train me? Maybe I will learn better from you._"

"_You will not be trained at all,_" Bucky tells her. "_You will live._"

The distinction is clearly lost on Sarah, who stares at Bucky uncomprehendingly. "_I am alive, now,_" she says, confused. 

Bucky winces, tries again. "_You can be free._"

"_Free?_" Sarah asks, frowning. 

"_Like the people around us, the people we saw on the way here,_" Bucky offers. "_Without orders. Without cages or cells or cryo chambers. Without being owned._"

Sarah still looks doubtful. "_But we were trained for orders. How do you live without orders?_"

"_I'm still figuring that out,_" Bucky admits. "_We can learn together._"

Sarah frowns as she turns that over in her mind. "_How can we learn with none to teach us?_"

"_I've done it before. A long time ago. But I can get us started._"

Sarah doesn't respond for a few moments, the expression on her face clearly contemplative, but eventually, she nods slowly. "_Okay._" After another moment of silence, she asks, tentative, like she's not sure of how the question will be received, "_Are you my new handler?_"

Rather than get mad, though, Bucky just laughs. "_No,_" he says. "_I'm your father._"

* * *

"Steve," Sam says, watching the man in question over the rim of his coffee mug, "you gotta quit pacing. You're gonna give _me _the ulcer you're incapable of growing yourself."

Steve gives Sam an apologetic look. "I can't stop worrying," he confesses, though he does at least sit down between Natasha and Tony at the table. "We haven't had any sightings, no signs, no anonymous tips about bases - nothing for almost six months now."

"He's gone to ground," Natasha says. "I told you this months ago. The last base he hit made him the last Winter Soldier alive. Hydra are going to have a big interest in getting him back now."

"What if they've found him?" Steve worries. "Or if they're close? We haven't even been able to really get a read on any Hydra movements, either."

"If they'd found him, you'd know about it," Natasha says.

"They'd be parading him around in front of us like a hooker in the Red Light District," Tony agrees. "Trust me, pal, if they get their hands on him they're not gonna be quiet about it."

"That doesn't mean they aren't close," Steve argues. "They have to know we're after him, too - they wouldn't be broadcasting their every move."

"Barnes is smart," Natasha argues. "He's evaded us this whole time, and he understands Hydra a lot better than we do. They're not even going to get near him."

"He's just one man, and even he has to sleep sometime," Steve says. "He can't stay on guard forever."

"He can for as long as he needs to," Natasha says. "Sit tight, Steve. He'll come in when he's ready."

* * *

Bucky is not ready. He's not ready at all, doesn't think he ever will be, but here they are. He grabs Sarah by the arm and wrenches her away from the heap of a man on the ground, the man she just knocked unconscious for brushing too close and glowering too hard. They're in the middle of the street, for Christ's sake, and they need to _move_. "Come on," he says roughly, all but dragging her back the way they came. "Come on!"

Sarah goes without complaint, keeping up easily despite how fast Bucky is moving. It's only when they finally reach the safe house that she asks, "What is wrong? He was a threat."

"He was not a threat, and even if he was, you need to let _me_ deal with it," Bucky snaps. "Little girls do not drop grown men in public."

"But big men can?" Sarah challenges. 

"If it's necessary, yes," Bucky tells her. "Just trust me to look out for you, okay?"

Sarah rolls her eyes. "Two people looking after each other is better than one person looking after two," she points out. 

"Maybe," Bucky agrees, "but people are gonna notice if you start attacking men three times your size and _winning_. Kids your age aren't supposed to be able to do that."

Sarah shrugs. "I would only attack threats," she insists. 

"You don't understand threats," Bucky insists. "That guy back there wasn't a threat. You need to learn to differentiate."

"Then what is a threat? What does the great _Soldat _consider a threat?"

"Don't call me that," Bucky snaps. "Sass, I've told you--"

"'That's not who I am,'" she parrots, though she's just shy of glaring at Bucky. "But it _is. _Living like this doesn't make our training not exist anymore. Do you not think of how to escape from every place, how to defend yourself from everyone if you need to? I do. That is what I was trained for, and so were you."

"Jesus fuck," Bucky groans. He rubs a hand over his face. "This isn't working."

Sarah goes completely still, staring at Bucky in something uncomfortably close to fear. "_Sir?_"

Bucky sighs. "_I'm not good for you, kid,_" he tells her. "_Not by myself._" He sighs again, looks away. "_I think we need some help._"

Sarah relaxes slightly, though she's clearly still on edge. "_Help from who?_"

Bucky shakes his head, his smile rueful. "I know a guy."

* * *

"_Captain Rogers, you have a visitor._"

Steve pauses in his workout, steadying the punching bag as he catches his breath. "A visitor?"

"_Two, actually. In conference room 6._"

Steve frowns. "Who?"

"_They've asked, for safety reasons, that I not say their names. I can assure you they mean no harm, however._"

Steve sighs. "Alright. I'll be down in a few minutes."

The last thing he expects when he opens the door to conference room 6 is the sight that actually greets him: a young girl of eleven or twelve sitting at the head of the long table, Bucky Barnes standing protectively behind her. He looks fearsome and furious, but he smiles when Steve meets his gaze. "Hey Stevie," he says, his voice more than a little hoarse. "Been a while."

Steve's knees buckle, and it's only through sheer force of will that he stays upright. "Bucky? Is that - What are you doing here? Who's she?"

"This is Sass," Bucky answers, squeezing the girl's shoulder. "Sarah. And we need your help."

Steve offers Sarah a smile that's returned with a curious look. "What do you need help with?"

Bucky smiles. "Well," he says, "we've both been mind-fucked six ways from Sunday, and I think you and I can agree that I'm in no fit state to raise a kid."

"Wait, _both? _You were - "

"I was supposed to be partnered with a Soldier," Sarah says. "I was trained for it."

"Damn. Well, we'll do whatever we can to help," Steve says. "Do you need a place to stay? We haven't gotten any news on you for... months."

"Because I found this one," Bucky says, his voice almost fond. "Worked out who she was... I couldn't just leave her there, could I?"

Steve can't help but smile. "Still rescuing little kids, huh?"

"Only the important ones," Bucky answers, because it's true. "Sass is my daughter."

Steve blinks, then blinks again. He looks from Bucky to Sarah and back to Bucky. "She's... yours? How?"

Bucky shrugs. "Someone at some point decided they wouldn't need to replicate Zola's serum if they could just breed me instead."

Steve's mouth drops open. "So they - Is Sarah the first?"

"I was the last," Sarah says, clearly irritated with the two adults talking over her head about her. "I could not complete the training, so they froze me like they did the Soldiers who failed."

"I found her in the same base as the adults," Bucky offers. "That's why I stopped."

Steve knows he looks surprised. "You've been raising her?"

Again, Bucky shrugs. "Trying to," he says. "You're better with English now, aren't you, Sass?"

Sarah nods, and Steve raises an eyebrow. "'Sass'?"

Bucky smirks. "Wait 'til she opens her fuckin' mouth," he says, "you'll see. Worse than you were, sometimes."

Steve can't help but grin at that. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make you two stay in this conference room until Tony and the others get back. I think Nat's still here, and Clint. Jarvis, mind letting them know we've got company - if that's okay with you two?"

"That's what we're here for," Bucky agrees easily. "Right, kiddo?"

Sarah nods; she looks unsure about this whole thing, now that Steve gets a chance to stop and really look at her. She's nervous, posture tense, but Steve honestly can't blame her. Hell, _he_ was intimidated by the Tower when he first arrived, and that was after facing off against an alien invasion. "Just let someone know if you're getting overwhelmed, alright?" he says, as gently as he can without coming off as condescending. "I know it's a lot to take in." When Sarah nods again, Steve looks back up at Bucky. "I'll take you two up to the living room," he decides. "Tony probably has more than one guest suite, but who knows what he's got in them, or where they actually are."

Bucky shrugs. "We'll follow you."

* * *

Steve tells Jarvis to go ahead and let everyone know what's going on as he leads Bucky and Sarah to the elevator. It's a short ride to the living room - it's more like it's own floor, honestly - and when the doors slide open, Natasha and Clint are openly staring at the elevator. "Damn, I thought Jarvis was pulling our legs," Clint says. "The fucking Winter Soldier actually has a kid with him."

"Interesting," Nat says, but she's all smiles as she makes her way over to Sarah and offers her hand. "Hello, I'm Nat."

Sarah glances at Bucky before she shakes Natasha's hand. "I'm Sarah," she says, almost _shy. _"I recognize you."

"Oh really?" Natasha asks, shooting Bucky a quizzical look.

Bucky just shrugs it off. "She should," he says. "You were one of the first. Sarah is the last."

Clint's eyes go wide as saucers. "_She _was trained to be a Widow? But she looks so... innocent!" Clint protests. "She looks like I could take her."

Bucky's hand comes down to rest protectively on Sarah's shoulder. "She didn't complete the training," he says, "but you probably couldn't." He looks at Natasha, at Steve. "That's part of why we're here."

"What's the other part?" Steve asks curiously. 

The look Bucky gives Steve then is unreadable; he sighs. "Why don't we table that for later?" he suggests. "I'm starving."

Natasha gets the hint, and she turns her smile upon Sarah once more. "Are you hungry, Sarah?"

Sarah nods. "I'm very hungry," she confirms. "Do you have plums?"

Natasha grins. "I bet we do. Why don't you take Clint to the kitchen and see if you can find any?"

Sarah turns to Clint, who offers her a grin and his hand. After a moment's consideration, Sarah takes it and follows Clint into the kitchen. Steve watches her go with a slight smile before he turns back to Bucky. "You found her at the same base as those other Soldiers? Was she given the serum, too?"

"No," Bucky says, with a careful glance at Nat. "I told you, she's my daughter. She didn't need it."

"Right," Steve remembers. "So she has the strength and healing, too?"

"Some of it," Bucky says. "Not to the same extent. With someone else in the mix it got diluted, or whatever."

Steve nods, taking that in, but before he says anything else, Natasha speaks up. "You said she was supposed to be the last Widow. You didn't take any records with you when you left that last base? Anything to do with her?"

"Did you find any?" Bucky asks, his eyes narrowing. "I took them all."

"I didn't find any there," Natasha says slowly. "But I found an awful lot of records right before I burned the Red Room to the ground."

"Then what do you know?" Bucky asks her.

"I know the Red Room was very interested in tracking our progress," Natasha says. "Including strength and healing. Half of the records were medical, tracking the healing of injuries and surgeries. I got curious and compared them to records of similar injuries and surgeries in girls the same age. The Red Room records showed that their girls healed almost twice as fast. The ones who healed slower were... dismissed."

Bucky winces, looks physically pained for just a moment. "Sounds about right," he acknowledges. "They won't have got the mix just-so for a while."

"That's just it - there were absolutely no records of any kind regarding any experiments like that. And the only records of our origins only listed our mothers. _Soldat _was written as the father on every record."

"Yeah," Bucky says. He pushes a hand through his hair, sends Steve a look that's almost apologetic. "It would be."

Steve looks from Bucky to Natasha, comprehension dawning - and Natasha confirms it before he can say anything. "She was part of the Widow program, and the Widows were all meant to be the Winter Soldier's daughters. They couldn't replicate the serum from your blood so they settled on the next best thing."

Bucky just sighs. "Yeah," he says.

Natasha studies Bucky for a moment before she looks over towards where Clint is animatedly explaining something to Sarah as they wash and cut up fruit. "You're planning on keeping Sarah, aren't you?"

Bucky nods. "She's mine," he says. "You were all mine. I--" He looks stricken. "I didn't _know_, not until I found her and read the files. But this is all because of me. I owe her... _everything_."

"They wiped you God knows how many times," Natasha points out, the sentence almost gentle. "You can't be blamed for not remembering everything, especially something they probably never told the Winter Soldier about to begin with."

"They didn't," Bucky admits. "They just... took... samples. They didn't need to tell me why; I did whatever they wanted. But that doesn't change the fact that I was involved."

"But you know now, and you're not turning your back on it," Natasha says, and it's not a question. "That's what matters now. And we'll help as much as we can."

Bucky manages to smile. "Thank you," he says. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Natasha just smiles at him. "I know you are. But - could we keep this between ourselves for now? I... need a bit of time to think."

"Whatever you need," Bucky agrees. "It's not my story to tell."

The smile he receives in return is small, but genuine and grateful. 

* * *

Stark won't be back until the next day, and since Sarah starts complaining about being tired shortly after that revelatory conversation, Steve offers the use of his spare bedroom and extremely comfortable couch. "Stark gave us all our own floors, so there's plenty of space," Steve reassures both father and daughter, who give in with little resistance.

It's easy to get Sarah settled into the large bed, and Bucky leaves the door open a crack as they leave. Steve doesn't miss how, even as Steve starts making them a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches and heating up some canned tomato soup, Bucky orients himself so that he can always hear Sarah and reach her easily if need be. 

It brings a pensive, almost melancholy smile to Steve's face, but when he speaks, he makes sure that it he doesn't sound anything but approving. "You're a good father. She clearly trusts you without a doubt, and she's comfortable with you."

Bucky shrugs it off, but he looks pleased. "Not like we had much choice," he says. "We're all we've got."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're doing a good job," Steve points out. "Hell, Lord knows that you got enough practice looking after someone from me."

"It's not quite the same," Bucky says. "You never dropped a grown man in the middle of the street and knocked him out cold just for looking at you."

Steve pauses at that, takes a moment to imagine the scene in his head, and then smiles. "No, but I tried to do it when the grown man was looking at people who didn't want his attention," Steve reminds him. "I'm assuming there wasn't a need for you to patch Sarah up because she got her ass kicked to kingdom come."

"No," Bucky agrees, "but there was a need for us to book it outta there before she got us arrested."

Steve chuckles at that, sliding the sandwiches off of the skillet and onto plates, handing one over to Bucky before he stirs the soup in its pot once more. "Soup's ready," he decides. "Bowls are in the cabinet to your left. Has she knocked out many people yet?"

Bucky turns to grab the bowls from the cupboard and sets about filling them with soup. "Three," he answers. "Four if you count the guy I found to set us up with our passports. And she almost attacked an airport security guard. She's... jumpy."

"Sounds like it," Steve says sympathetically. "But Nat might be able to help with that." He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "Is that why you came back?"

Bucky nods. "Table or couch?"

"Couch," Steve decides. "We'll just be careful with the soup."

"Sure." They sit down and Bucky dunks a corner of his sandwich straight into his soup. "I can't help her. Not when half the time I'm less than a second away from attacking the guys myself. I'm too fucked up to make this any better for her."

Steve takes a moment to consider his response. "We can help both of you. But you've done a good job so far. She's alive, and free, thanks to you. And you brought her somewhere where someone who knows what she went through can help. And I - all of us, actually - we've all got shit we have to work through. If nothing else, we can recommend some professionals to talk to."

Bucky's mouth twists. "I'm not an idiot, Steve. Sass is innocent, but you tell anyone official that I'm here and I'm gonna wind up in a cell, if not dead."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Steve says fiercely. "I don't give a damn what bridges I'd have to burn, you deserve help, not a fucking cell." He makes himself take a deep breath and relax his grip on his spoon before he bends it further. It's another moment or two before he lets himself speak again. "You're innocent, too, Bucky. The blame falls on Hydra, for taking you and breaking you in the first place. But if you want to keep it quiet that you're here, we'll do our best to keep it that way."

Bucky shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "Nah," he says, "I can't ask you to do that. You do what you gotta do, and we'll take it from there."

Steve knocks his knee gently against Bucky's. "We'll keep you safe," he promises. "You and Sarah both."

Bucky gives him a soft smile. "Thank you."

* * *

There isn't much to do after they've eaten except go to bed, so Bucky helps Steve set up the couch and then says goodnight, watches Steve disappear behind his bedroom door with a strange feeling in his chest that he doesn't know how to name. It's not important, though, so he turns off all the lights and settles himself on the couch, resigned to stare at the ceiling for most of the night. He doesn't expect to sleep at all.

Except that he must, something about knowing that he's in one of the best-protected buildings in the world with his daughter safe behind one door and Steve behind another making him feel secure enough to sleep, because one minute he's grinding his teeth just for some noise in the silence of the room and the next he's jolting awake as Sarah's door bursts open.

"Dad!"

Bucky's fast, but Sarah's faster. He barely has time to sit up on the couch before he has his arms full and Jesus Christ, did she vault over the back of the sofa? "Hey," he murmurs, right hand already stroking the back of her head. "Hey, it's okay. We're safe."

Steve makes it to the entrance to the living room in time to see Sarah bury her face in the crook of Bucky's neck. He hesitates there, unwilling to intrude further, especially when Sarah manages to choke out, "They came back for us. And they - they said _it _and you were gone and weren't listening to me."

"Never," Bucky swears, even as his stomach twists. "I'll never let that happen."

Steve's own chest tightens at the fright in Sarah's tone, and he can't help but wonder what _it _is that she's so afraid of somebody saying. Still, he makes his way quietly across the living room to the kitchen, getting a couple of glasses of water that he brings out to the coffee table for Sarah and Bucky before he retreats back to his bedroom to give them some privacy. 

Sarah doesn't move from her position clinging to Bucky for a long while - though she doesn't make any noise, either, aside from the occasional, hitching breath. Eventually, she shifts around until she's just sitting in Bucky's lap, no longer clinging as tightly, though she's still holding onto him. "Did Steve bring us water?" she asks, mumbles really, her voice quiet and just a little hoarse from the effort of holding back the emotions that had been swamping her moments ago. 

"Yeah," Bucky admits, leaning forward just far enough to pick up one of the glasses and hand it to her. "It's okay. He's a good man, Sass."

That gets a small smile before she takes a sip of her water. "You told me that before, when we were coming here," she remembers. "You said I reminded you of him."

Bucky smiles, too. "You do," he says. "Always getting into it with people ten times bigger than you and not an ounce of self-preservation in your body, but always for the right reasons." He nudges her just a little and allows his smile to become knowing, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You could take him, though."

Sarah looks slightly doubtful. "But he's big, and he fights, too," she points out. "We saw that on the news. He fights like I do, kind of."

Bucky nods. "When he learned to fight, he was a lot smaller. Smaller than you, even. The lady who taught him showed him how to use that to his advantage."

"I bet the people he fights now don't expect that," Sarah says, just shy of a giggle. "He looks like he should fight like you do, sometimes."

"That's what gives him the edge," Bucky agrees. "No one's beaten him yet, anyway." Not quite.

Sarah does chuckle at that, taking another sip of her water. "Did you fight with him? Before everything happened?"

Bucky nods. "I've known him since we were kids. I'd have died for him back then, followed him anywhere. We were together right up until they found me."

"You left them because of him, didn't you?"

"Yes," Bucky answers, because when all is said and done, it's true. "He's always made me want to be better."

Sarah smiles at that, leaning against Bucky. "I want a friend like him," she decides. 

Bucky gives her a squeeze. "You'll find one," he says. "And in the meantime, I'm sure he won't mind filling in."

* * *

Eventually, Bucky and Sarah fall back asleep on the couch, managing to sleep until Steve comes out in the morning to start making breakfast. He makes pancakes and fruit for all three of them, even bringing over a stool for Sarah to stand on so she can help him mix the pancake batter and then pour it into the skillet. Bucky washes and cuts up the fruit while the pancakes are cooking, and after they finish eating, Jarvis announces, "_Mr Stark would like to speak with the three of you, if you are ready to meet him. He is waiting in the common area_."

Steve glances at Bucky and Sarah, anxiety suddenly spiking. "It would probably be best to meet him there. He - He read the files, and saw the footage from that base in Siberia. I don't _think_ he'll do anything bad, but... If there are others around, it might be better. Easier, maybe. For everyone."

A flicker of uncertainty passes over Bucky's face. "Can Sarah wait here?"

"Of course," Steve says immediately. 

"You okay with that?" Bucky asks Sarah. "This ain't gonna be pretty."

Sarah thinks for a moment before she nods. "Okay. Only if Jarvis keeps me updated."

"_Of course, Ms Barnes_."

Bucky gives her a soft smile. "_We'll be okay,_" he tells her in Russian, and then turns to Steve. "Let's go."

Tony's clearly nervous; when Steve and Bucky step out if the elevator, he's pacing in front of the couch, Bruce sitting at one end while Natasha and Clint are arguing with each other in what sounds like German in the kitchen. He pauses when they approach, watching Bucky intently. "You look good," he says. "For coming out of seventy years of brainwashing. I thought you had a kid with you?"

"I do," Bucky says evenly. "My kid. But I figured there might be some fireworks, and I don't want her to see that."

"You mean fireworks over the fact that the Winter Soldier murdered my parents?" Tony says archly, waving a hand at Steve when he starts to say something. "I'm not actually going to start any fireworks, Cap, cool your jets."

"Why not?" Bucky asks. "It's true. And I'm standing right in front of you."

"It's true the Winter Soldier killed my parents, but you're James Barnes," Tony says. "I'll admit I don't really want to spend too much time around you right now because you still look an awful lot like the guy in the footage, but I can hold a civil conversation with you. Long enough to tell you that I don't have an extra floor for you."

"What? Tony, I know this place has guest floors - "

"Which have already been taken, Steve. That big business meeting, where the heads of all the departments from all over the world are coming for the five year review Pepper wants to start, remember that?" Tony says, raising an eyebrow. "The reason I've been staying in my lab so much lately, because Pep's insisting I need to be at at least three-fourths of the meetings?"

"Oh. Yeah, I remember that," Steve says, flushing slightly. He remembers now, but he hadn't realized that _every _floor would be taken. 

Bucky grinds his teeth. "I appreciate that you'd rather not roll out the welcome mat," he says, "but I'm here to help my _daughter_. She's innocent. If I can't stay here, fine, but surely you can find somewhere for her?"

"I designed each floor to have multiple bedrooms, and Jarvis tells me you've already taken advantage of the one on Steve's floor. Why not continue to do that? I don't care if you stay here - I know it's probably the safest option you have - I just don't want to have too much to do with you myself. But I'm not going to kick you out, and I'm certainly not going to kick your daughter out. You can work the details out with Steve, or Nat, or whoever you end up staying with."

Bucky looks at Steve, and then back to Stark. He takes a breath. "Thank you," he says. "We appreciate it."

Tony looks uncomfortable with Bucky's thanks, but then he always looks uncomfortable with expressions of gratitude. "Yeah, of course. Just... don't break anything or go all homicidal, and we'll call it good."

Bucky grimaces. "I'll try my best." It's the best he can do.

* * *

Tony drags Bruce back to the lab after that, and Steve and Bucky return to Steve's floor. Sarah's waiting for them, and as soon as the door to the elevator opens, she demands, "We can stay?"

Bucky gives her a smile. "As long as Steve doesn't mind us stickin' around?" He means to say it all confident and cocky, like the old Bucky would have, but he can't help the way it sounds like a question - or the way he looks to Steve like he's asking permission.

Steve smiles. "Of course. I'm not using that guest room for anything, and you're more than welcome to stay here."

Sarah lights up, but Bucky isn't convinced. "Are you sure?" he asks. "We haven't lived together for a long time. Have you even had a roommate since then?"

"Well, no," Steve admits. "But it's a big place, not like we'll be crowding each other. And we've got time to figure the rest out."

"All right," Bucky agrees, albeit grudgingly. "It won't be for long, though. We'll work something out."

"Take as long as you need," Steve says reassuringly. 

Bucky smiles. "Thanks, pal."

* * *

The next couple of days are quiet. There's no crisis that requires Captain America, so Steve spends the time catching up with Bucky and hanging out with both him and Sarah. Bucky seems content to stay in the apartment for a while yet, but on the second day, when Steve gets dressed to head down to the gym to work out, Sarah stops him with a curious look. "Where are you going, Steve?"

Steve grins. "Even supersoldiers need to stay in shape," he answers. "I'm going down to the gym. Natasha and Clint are there, and Clint wants a rematch since I knocked him off of his perch with my shield last time."

Sarah perks up at the mention of Natasha and Clint, and eagerly asks, "Can I come with you?"

Steve glances at Bucky where he's sitting on the couch. "If it's alright with your dad," he decides.

Bucky raises a single eyebrow at her. "You wanna watch or you wanna join in?"

Sarah looks slightly guilty when she answers, "Join in."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "They're in charge," he says, pointing a stern finger in her direction. "Do what they say. If they tell you no contact, don't fuckin' touch 'em."

Sarah brightens immediately, darting forward to hug Bucky. "I promise!" Running back over to Steve, she all but bounces in place as she looks at him expectantly. 

Steve laughs. "Come on, I'll take you down to the gym, then."

Natasha tenses up only for a second when she sees Sarah with Steve, but quickly loosens her posture and offers them both a smile. "I didn't know you were bringing backup," she tells Steve, her voice light.

"She wants to watch, maybe even join in," Steve answers with a grin of his own, though there's a question in his eyes. _You okay with this? _

But Natasha's smile doesn't falter. "This should be interesting," she says. "Take a seat, kiddo. See what you're up against."

Sarah does, sitting down next to Natasha as Steve and Clint start bickering as they warm up. "You're not fighting today?"

"Not yet," Natasha says. "These guys know I can beat them with my hands tied behind my back. Don't want to bruise their egos too badly."

Sarah giggles, watching Clint scamper up a couple of shelves and make his way into the rafters of the training area. "Does Steve try to knock Clint down a lot?"

"He tries," Natasha allows. "He's not always successful."

Sarah hums thoughtfully, watching Steve essentially chase Clint from perch to perch with his shield and various other objects laying around. "It helps Clint stay aware? So that when you're actually fighting he has a better chance of seeing danger coming?"

"Very good," Natasha says, impressed. "Just how far into your training did you get?"

"Not very far," Sarah admits. "I was taught how to fight, but when they started trying to train me under mission conditions, I failed."

"Failed how?"

"I was deemed inadequate for their purposes," Sarah says matter-of-factly. "They received the means to create more Soldiers right away, instead of training me and waiting for me to grow up."

"So they cast you aside," Natasha deduces. "Were there others?"

"Before me, yes," Sarah says. "They didn't pass the training and were terminated. I was the last one, but there weren't many to start with."

Natasha doesn't offer platitudes or sympathies; she just nods. "You're strong," she says. "Much stronger than them."

"I know," Sarah says. "But Dad doesn't like it when I fight. But I... I kind of like it. And Dad can't always be there to protect me."

"You can be strong in other ways," Natasha says sagely, "but you should still be able to defend yourself. We can help with that."

Sarah hesitates, glancing at where Clint has just launched himself out of the rafters and is now attempting to strangle a cursing Steve with his bow. "Would you spar with me? Help me stay in shape?"

Natasha shrugs. "Sure. As long as it's okay with your dad."

"Dad said that I couldn't push if you said no," Sarah replies. "But if you said yes, it was fine with him."

"All right," Natasha says. "Let's wait for these idiots to get tired and we'll see what you got."

It doesn't take long; Steve and Clint have devolved to down-and-dirty wrestling, almost brawling, by that point. When it becomes clear that neither of them is going to get the upper hand, they call a draw, both flopping dramatically to the mats before they start trash-talking each other. Sarah and Natasha laugh at them, and Sarah grins when Natasha bodily rolls Clint off of the mats, Steve rolling to his feet and following. Sarah waits eagerly for Natasha on the mat, already putting her hair up so it's out of her face. "Just sparring? Or to an end?"

Natasha flashes her a sharp smile. "Just come at me. I'll go easy on you."

Sarah nods, settling into a ready stance as Natasha does the same. They circle each other on the mat for a moment, Natasha's posture ready and waiting as Sarah sizes her up, considering. When she attacks for the first time, she knows that Natasha will repel her, and lets it happen, guiding her roll to put her on Natasha's left side, where she goes for the side of the knee, knocking Natasha off-balance long enough for Sarah to take advantage of it. Within a minute, Sarah has Natasha in a triangle choke hold on the floor, the pressure tight enough to be a threat, but not tight enough to actually choke Natasha out.

Natasha lets her enjoy her win for a few moments before tapping out and rolling up off the mat. "Not bad," she allows. "Have you been training with your dad, or just jumping random people on the streets?"

Sarah shakes her head. "Dad and I spar sometimes," she answers. "He doesn't like the thought of me fighting, but I already know how, he says. So I should keep in practice just in case I need to one day."

"Your dad's smart," Natasha tells her. "You should only fight when you need to, but you should know how to win."

Sarah nods, expression serious. "I want to learn how to do that better," she says. "I didn't get a lot of time to really practice before they put me away."

Natasha smiles. "We'll get you there."

* * *

A couple of days later, Natasha comes up to the apartment while Steve and Sarah are down in the gym with Clint and a couple of Tony's training bots. She returns Bucky's surprised look with a small smile. "I wanted to talk to you," she says. "About Sarah."

Bucky's expression shutters almost instantly. "What about her?"

Natasha pauses, watching Bucky carefully. "I wanted to ask if you would be alright with telling her that I'm... related to her. That I'm her half-sister."

"Already?" Bucky asks, still wary. "Why?"

"She was trained to be a Widow," Natasha answers. "I know what that involves. If you don't want to tell her yet, that's fine. I can still be there for her as a friend, and as someone who knows what she's been through."

Bucky just looks at her. "You want her to know because she was a Widow," he says flatly.

"That's part of it," Natasha says, frowning as she tries to turn her thoughts and feelings into words; it's not something she usually has trouble with, but it's stumping her this time. "But also... I like her. And family is clearly important to her; she's always talking about you. I don't... have very many friends, and less family. I want to know her - and you - better as family."

"Oh." Bucky doesn't really know what to make of that, so he nods. "All right. I'm gonna want to be there, when you tell her."

"Of course," Natasha says hastily - the smile she offers Bucky this time is real, hopeful. "Also, no offense, but I don't think I'll ever be able to call you 'Dad' with a straight face - you barely look older than me."

Bucky manages to laugh, shake his head. "I wouldn't expect you to," he says. "Sass has never known any better, and I also got her out of a really bad situation. For you, I was part of the problem."

Natasha shrugs one shoulder. "Not through your choice," she says. "I certainly don't blame you, not when they were doing something just as bad to me and the others."

"You were all mine," Bucky says. "I know some things are lost, but I'd like the chance to know you."

"I'd like that, too," Natasha says, smiling. "And I think we'll finally get it."

Bucky smiles, too. "Sass is training with Steve right now, but they shouldn't be much longer. Do you wanna wait?"

Natasha takes a deep breath, and nods. "Yeah, I'll stay."

* * *

When they tell her, Sarah just looks at them for several moments. Bucky fights the urge to avoid her eyes, to shuffle closer to Steve in an effort to shield himself from that piercing gaze; she deserves the truth, and she needs him to face it with her. After what feels like an age, she swallows, and directs her first question to Natasha. "How did you get out?"

"They sent me on a mission," Natasha says. "I was already planning to get out, and I used their trust in my abilities to do it. They weren't watching me very closely, and that gave me just enough time to get out and get a headstart."

"Did you know about us?"

"Not until recently," Natasha answers. "I knew about the girls in my base, and I came back for them. But I never found any information that said they were working on the Widow program at any other location."

Sarah isn't the only one surprised to hear that. "So there are more of us?" she demands. "Free?"

"There are. I don't know where, though. I helped them establish new lives, lives where they couldn't be found by the Red Room, but I didn't keep in touch after the first year or so."

Sarah nods, chewing her lip - a habit she picked up from Bucky in their first week together. "But we're here," she concludes. "And we're... sisters?"

Natasha nods, giving Sarah a small smile. "We are. And I'd like to really be your sister, if you're comfortable with that."

Sarah looks to Bucky, who just smiles. "It's okay," he says gently.

Sarah nods. "All right. I've never been anyone's sister before."

Natasha smiles. "I don't really have a whole lot of practice with it, either," she confesses, almost conspiratorial. "But we're smart. I think we can figure it out."

Sarah smiles, but she still looks unsure. "What about being a daughter?" she asks, her gaze skittering to Bucky and then away.

"Well, I don't know a lot about that," Natasha says carefully. "I never really had a chance to be one before. But I think you're doing a good job of it, so far."

"Nat and I are probably going to be a bit different than we are," Bucky adds. "She grew up without me."

They all watch as Sarah considers that; when she nods, Natasha lets out a small sigh of relief. "Okay. Do you want to watch a movie? Steve has a lot of movies."

Natasha grins. "I know he does, Sam and I helped him pick them out. Which ones are your favorites so far?"

Steve watches them head to the living room, already discussing the inaccuracies in most of the spy movies Steve owns, a smile on his own face. "I think this was the right step," he says quietly to Bucky, coming up beside him. 

Bucky shrugs. "Wasn't my call," he says. "But I'm glad."

Steve chuckles. "So, is Nat going to start calling you 'Dad' too?" he teases. 

Bucky scrunches his face up. "I think she might be older than me."

"Well, if we're counting years awake, probably," Steve concedes. "But she might still call you that to get a rise out of you. She bought me LifeAlert a couple of months ago, just before you came back, after I managed to switch out her shampoo for temporary hair dye."

Bucky laughs at that, but he sobers quickly. "I got the feeling she isn't ready to joke about it yet," he admits. "It's a lot, y'know? It's not like with Sass. I helped make her in more ways than one."

"Yeah, I get that," Steve says quietly, watching Natasha and Sarah settle onto the couch more comfortably, _Ocean's Eleven _starting to play on the screen in front of them. "But I think you two will figure it out pretty easily."

Bucky just sighs, following Steve's gaze. "I can't believe there are more out there," he says. "I never thought I'd have a family at all, but God knows how many of my children survived the Red Room - or how many more were lost."

Steve makes a sympathetic noise, hesitating only a moment before he lays a careful, comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder. "We could look into it," he suggests. "Make sure they're still doing well, if that's something you want to do."

"No," Bucky says, "no way. Nat's right. If they got out safe then they deserve their lives."

"Alright," Steve says easily. "What're you gonna do with the two you've got here?"

Bucky's smile is a little wistful. "I don't know," he says. "They deserve their lives, too."

"Well, Sarah's a bit too young to go off on her own," Steve points out with a smile. "And Nat's had her life, still has one - and she's chosen to keep you in it."

"I'm pretty messed up, Steve," Bucky points out. "And I don't know the first thing about being a father. I don't have a lot to offer either of them."

"No one knows anything about being a father before they start," Steve counters. "Maybe they know, logically, but no one knows how to put it into practice."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "What do you know about it?"

"Very little," Steve admits with a laugh. "Logically or otherwise."

Bucky laughs, too. "I didn't even know what love was," he admits after a moment. "But when I found Sarah, I knew I couldn't leave her there. And now..."

Steve's smile softens. "Now you've got a family," he says quietly. "A family that just got a little bigger."

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, all kinds of fond. "I guess so."

* * *

Sarah and Natasha spend a lot of time together over the next few days. Bucky knows certain people expect this to provide an opportunity for him to spend time with Steve, but he takes a step back from all of them, keeps his distance from Steve especially. Still, when he comes back down from the roof, where he has taken to retreating when the bustle of the common floors becomes too much, to be informed by Jarvis that everyone of note is in the gym, he can't quite help himself.

He finds them all as expected, clustered around the room, all eyes on the pair sparring in the middle. Steve and Sam. Bucky slinks in unnoticed and makes his way over to Natasha and Sarah. "What's going on?" he asks.

"Steve was being an ass and running laps around Sam again," Natasha says. 

"Sam got all mad and demanded that Steve fight him where he had a chance of winning," Sarah finishes, giggling. "He's not doing very well, though. I think Steve is still being a jerk and playing with him."

"He is," Bucky agrees, his gaze sharp as he observes them. He's barely spoken two words in front of anyone who isn't Steve and Natasha since he got here, but suddenly he calls out, feels no small amount of satisfaction that Stark jumps. "Wilson! Go for his legs, are you serious?"

"Fuck you, man, we don't all have a metal arm that can deal with his oversized dinner plate!" Sam calls back, scowling in concentration - but he does change tactics, more of his blows aiming to knock Steve's shield away so he can attempt to sweep Steve's legs out from under him. Steve, however, spent almost half his life ducking blows and scrapping in back alleys before shipping out to fight more well-trained opponents, and manages to stay on his feet - sometimes wobbling, but never falling - despite Sam's best efforts. 

Bucky just rolls his eyes. "This is pathetic."

Natasha smirks. "It kind of is. Why don't you go put Sam out of his misery and show how to deal with Steve?" she suggests, a gleam in her eye. 

But Bucky shakes his head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You never spar with anyone," Natasha points out. 

"Yeah, you've got to keep in practice, Dad," Sarah pipes up. "What if we have to fight more aliens someday? You don't even practice with a rifle anymore."

"You won't be fighting anyone, aliens or otherwise," Bucky says sharply. "And I don't need to practice."

Sarah huffs at Bucky's first comment, but Natasha cuts in to address his second. "Everyone needs to stay in practice - and learn new things. Also, I didn't get to see you and Steve fight last time because you'd shot me through the shoulder and I was trying to find a way to stop you," she says lightly, a slight smile on her face. 

The look Bucky gives her is pure poison. "That's not funny," he snaps. "And it's all the more reason for me not to fight Steve."

"What was that?" Stark calls from the other side of the room. "You want to fight Steve?"

"_No._"

But Steve's already heard, and his expression lights up. "Aw, c'mon Buck! It'll be fun! Besides, you have to get past the shield before you can hit me." He waves the shield emphatically, dodging Sam's attempt to take advantage of his distraction. 

Bucky grits his teeth. "You already know I can do that," he says, and without his permission his gaze wanders down Steve's body, fixing on the exact spot where he'd watched the suit darken with blood over a year ago and felt such deep satisfaction. Even then, it had only lasted for a second before doubt crept in. Now that he knows himself, knows Steve... He can't go there again.

Steve's expression softens, but before he can say anything, Natasha says, "Stark made me a set of knives for sparring; they're blunted, and retractable. You literally can't hurt anyone with them. Or you and he could fight hand-to-hand, no weapons at all besides the shield and your arm. Or, if you really don't want to fight at all, we'll drop the subject."

Bucky really doesn't want to, but he does want Steve to stop looking at him like that. "Hand-to-hand," he says, rolling his shoulders back. "Even a fake knife gives me an unfair advantage."

"To first blood?" Stark asks eagerly, but Bucky shoots him a sour look.

"I'm not making him bleed."

"That kind of defeats the purpose of not having any other weapons," Steve points out. "Pinned and unable to get up?"

"Sure." Bucky steps past Natasha into the middle of the room with Steve, and spares a brief glance for Sam. "Watch closely."

Sam very maturely sticks his tongue out at Bucky as Steve faces Bucky, bringing his shield up into a ready stance. "Jarvis, give us a count, would you?"

"Fuck that," Bucky spits, a dirty smirk on his face. "You think you'll get a count in the field, Rogers?" The sound Bucky's left fist makes when it strikes the shield is almost deafening.

Steve just laughs, though, bracing against the blow before he's rolling to the side, away from Bucky's right hand and left foot. "You think you'll get another hit like that in?" he taunts, footsteps light as he and Bucky circle each other. Steve makes the next move, lashing out with his very distracting shield to force Bucky into a duck, letting him land an open-handed smack to Bucky's right shoulder, shoving him just off-balance. Steve doesn't follow up on it, though; these are the opening parries, gauging each other before they go in for the (metaphorical) kill. 

The ring is quiet for another moment before Steve and Bucky launch almost simultaneously into a flurry of motion. Steve attacks again, shield spinning from his hand to be knocked aside by Bucky, who counters with an attack of his own that Steve ducks, rolling across the floor to grab his shield and bring it up in time to knock aside Bucky's fist, leaving himself an opportunity to aim his own hit at Bucky's knee. Bucky dodges, leg kicking up and pulling him into a flip over Steve's back, Steve rolling again, this time to the side instead of forward. The impact of Bucky's fist hitting the floor reverberates even with the cushioned mats, and Steve loses himself to the rhythm of the fight. This is everything and nothing like that fight in the street, and nothing at all like the one in the helicarrier. They're not really fighting, here, trading blows as easily as they breathe, but they're making each other _work_ for every dodge, every hit, every minor victory. Steve's blood is pumping, all but roaring in his ears, and he's long since forgotten about their audience, too focused on Bucky so close to him, the two of them spinning in close and then away again, occasionally trading the shield between them when Steve flings it in an attempt to either knock Bucky off-balance or force him to duck. 

Steve's enjoying himself; he's honestly forgotten that this is supposed to be a fight he's trying to _win_, too busy delighting in every smirk Bucky shoots at him, every time they touch. He's missed this. They only sparred a couple of times in the war, usually short affairs because "I'm a fucking sniper, Rogers, I don't need to fight with my fists anymore," that ended with them both breathless and on their backs, laughing at each other more often than not. Steve hasn't had an honest challenge since the third time he sparred with Natasha, and he's enjoying this. 

A little too much, it turns out, because the moment he forgets himself, lets himself remember the way Bucky laughed that day a month before they went after Zola, Bucky gets the drop on him. Steve's breath wheezes out of his lungs, shield skittering to the side as Bucky pins him, trapping Steve's legs with his own while Steve fights him, manages to roll them so Steve's on top - and then promptly loses his breath again when Bucky rolls them once more. "Give it up, Rogers," Bucky huffs, and there's a laugh in his voice that Steve hasn't heard for the better part of a century.

Steve's grin shifts to a smirk, and the next time he struggles, he makes sure his hips aren't thrashing so much as _rolling. _"Oh, you mean like how I gave it up back in Italy?" he asks, eyes glinting, voice little more than a purr. 

Bucky freezes, hisses in a sharp breath. His lip curls in a snarl rather than a smirk and he yanks himself away from Steve, rolling to his feet in a way that Steve would probably think was graceful if he could think over the blood roaring in his ears. Half a heartbeat later and Bucky's gone - and Steve only remembers their audience when Stark's voice breaks the silence.

"What the hell was that?"

Steve sighs, pushing himself to his feet. "I crossed a line," he says - mutters, really, as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'll have to go apologize later."

"Now," Sarah says, quiet but stern. "You'll have to go apologise now."

Steve hesitates, but when he glances at Nat, who just nods, he takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I should probably do it now." He barely pauses to grab his shield on his way out the door. 

* * *

Bucky's still sleeping on Steve's couch, so of course that's where Steve finds him. It's the only place Steve could possibly look for him, but it still annoys him that Steve couldn't even give him five minutes to try to put himself back together. "Leave it," he snaps when he feels Steve pause just inside the doorway, his face in his hands. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Steve hesitates for a moment more before he comes closer. "I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have brought that up, I don't even know what - how much you remember," he says quietly.

"Enough," Bucky says flatly. If Steve wants to do this, Bucky's not going to make it easy for him.

Steve freezes at that; "enough" could mean any number of things. Does he remember how it started? Their first time? Their last time? The times in between? The time Steve said things he'd been keeping in, things he'd been keeping hidden for years, but couldn't anymore after he finally got Bucky back to base after escaping Azzano? He swallows, hard. "Oh. Well, I - I still shouldn't have said anything, especially not back there, in front of everyone else."

Bucky looks up sharply at that. "Did they hear?"

Steve shakes his head. "No. But they figured something was up, and all I said was that I crossed a line and needed to apologize to you."

Bucky sighs. "You're fuckin' lucky."

Steve hesitates for a moment. "No one would care, if they figured it out," he says quietly. "Not here, anyway, in the Tower. And they all know how to keep their mouths shut when it matters."

"Whatever," Bucky says. "Not like it matters now."

"What do you mean?"

Bucky shoots him a dry look. "Italy was a long time ago, Steve."

Steve forces himself to grin. "So, you're saying it'll definitely _never_ happen again?" he says lightly. 

"No," Bucky says. "It won't happen again."

* * *

Bucky is exhausted, but he stops himself from slumping against the wall of the elevator while it takes him back to Steve's floor. He knows Jarvis can see him, and he won't give Stark the satisfaction should he choose to play back the footage for whatever reason. Thankfully, Jarvis opens both the elevator doors and the door to Steve's rooms without a word, and Bucky trudges inside with his hands shoved deep into his pockets like some kind of teenager. He's not surprised to see Steve sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

"I went," he says flatly, finally relaxing enough to lean against the wall, unable to go any further. "Okay? I said I would. I just dropped Sass off."

"She as wiped as you look?"

"She will be," Bucky says. He scrubs a hand over his face. "I gotta pick her up in an hour."

Steve makes a sympathetic noise, scooting over on the couch. "You wanna sit down? I can grab you a drink or something if you want."

"Sure," Bucky sighs, but makes no move to approach the couch. He blinks after a moment and pushes himself off the wall with great effort. "Sorry, I'm... I don't even know."

Steve's smile is quiet, understanding. "You okay with being touched, or you want me to stay over here?"

"No," Bucky says. "You can-- It's fine."

"Alright. Let me grab a glass of water for you," Steve says, getting up and doing so. Bucky's made it to the couch by the time Steve comes back, so he hands over the glass and settles back onto the couch, close enough that he can rest his knee against Bucky's, hopefully something to help ground him without pressing in too close.

Bucky takes a few sips before resting the glass against the arm of the sofa. "Thanks," he croaks. "Is it always this hard?"

Steve shrugs. "I don't know, I've never been. When I was in D.C., I saw a lot of people leaving the V.A. that looked a lot like you just did, though. So I guess it is, for military people."

Bucky blinks, turns to him. "You don't go to therapy?"

"I do fine on my own," Steve says, though he isn't quite looking at Bucky when he says it. "Never saw a reason to go."

"Well that's bullshit," Bucky says, with more feeling than he's said anything for the last two hours. "You're 'military people' too, y'know."

"But I've been fine," Steve repeats. "And I didn't want to take time from people who aren't fine."

For a moment Bucky looks furious, and so like the Bucky who used to finish Steve's fights for him with split knuckles and a bloody lip and then roar at him for starting them in the first place - but then he's gone, and the Bucky of now just relaxes back against the sofa with a deep, unhappy sigh. "Sure," he says. "Whatever you say, champ."

Steve knows Bucky had been looking for a different answer, but he can't bring himself to give the wanted response right now. An awkward silence descends for a moment before Steve breaks it. "You want to watch some TV or just relax until you need to pick up Sarah?"

"TV is fine," Bucky says, giving Steve one last searching look. "Nothing heavy."

* * *

Bucky and Sarah kept going to their appointments, coming back to the apartment exhausted but lighter every time - well, almost every time. There were a couple of times Bucky came back and locked himself in the bathroom, running a bath as hot as a supersoldier could stand it and staying in for hours. And there were times that Sarah came back and curled up on the end of the couch, or burrowed into Bucky's side, wrapped up in a blanket and only coming out long enough for some of Steve's hot chocolate(the recipe for which he inherited from Sarah's namesake). 

Steve, for his part, kept being there whenever he was needed, and doing what he'd always done when things got too much for him. He went for a run, sometimes down at the track in the gym, sometimes out and around New York City. Those runs were usually in the early morning, before there was any light but the street lamps. Usually he was alone, the rest of the residents of the Tower used to his weirdly times runs, and the majority of New York City still asleep or on it's way to it. 

Which is why he was so surprised when someone fell into step with him at the entrance to Central Park at 6:05AM. Steve actually stumbled when he caught sight of the figure in his periphery, and he almost lashed out before realizing who it was. "Bucky? Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me, what the fuck?"

"Wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Bucky answers, without looking at him. "You don't want the company, I can back off."

"No, you just startled me, appearing out of thin air like that," Steve says with a chuckle, shoulders and posture relaxing now that he knows there isn't actually a threat. "I don't mind the company. Be nice to run with someone who can keep up, fun as lapping Sam is."

Bucky grins and steps up his pace. "Be careful I don't lap you."

"Oh, is that how you want to play this?" Steve demands, though he's grinning as he catches - and then passes - Bucky. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, but ups his pace once more. "Oh, it's on."

* * *

It becomes routine pretty quickly after that. They don't always leave at the same time, but each day they catch up to one another and finish their run together. It's nice, comfortable, even on the days they don't talk. They soon realise that it's easier to get to know each other again outside than it is in the tower, with a million and one things to distract them.

On one morning that they do leave together, Bucky suggests they switch up their route, and they wind up jogging through their old neighbourhood. Bucky doesn't even notice at first, but he slows down as they round one particular corner and comes to a halt outside of a large, ornate building that looks to have been recently boarded up. "Did that used to be a theatre?" he asks, squinting up at the crumbling facade.

Steve studies it for a moment, squints at the street signs down the road, and then laughs. "Yeah, it did. Was one I got my ass kicked behind, even."

"More than once," Bucky recalls, frowning as he tries to hold on to the memory. "But the last time..."

"It was right before you shipped out," Steve says quietly. 

"Yeah," Bucky says. He stares towards the alleyway, suddenly lost in the memory. "I was wearing my new uniform, and you were barely standin' up straight, and I was thinkin', 'Christ, I can't leave this dumb punk alone for five minutes, how can I leave him forever?'" He huffs a dark laugh. "I knew I wasn't coming back."

"A lot of people didn't," Steve points about. "And just about everyone went into the war thinking they weren't coming back. You took a while, but you managed it eventually."

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, "so did you. After you proved me right and then some." He cuts his gaze to Steve. "Did you even wait a day before signing up to be that doctor's guinea pig?"

Steve looks away, cheeks coloring. "No. I uh - that night. I'd tried to enlist again, and he got hold of my records. Said later that I caught his attention when you and I were arguing in front of the office."

Bucky shakes his head. "I knew it," he says, rueful. "Never should'a left you alone."

"Well, I got to save you," Steve points out. "On the helicarrier. Without the serum, I would have been dead by the time that went down."

Bucky looks away. "Without the serum, you would have died at home in your bed almost a century ago, and I would have died on Zola's table."

"So we both would have died being fucking miserable," Steve surmises. "I think I'd rather be here. Can't speak for you, but... I wouldn't have wanted to die knowing you were MIA or worse."

"A lot's happened since then," Bucky says. "Not all of us made it out with clean hands."

"No one ever makes it out of war with clean hands," Steve says quietly. "You were just in the war longer than anyone else."

Bucky laughs. "That's one way of looking at it," he agrees.

Steve gives Bucky a grin before clapping him on the shoulder. "Yeah, it is. Come on, we're only halfway through the route."

* * *

Bucky doesn't even look up when the elevator deposits him onto Steve's floor; he just steps through the doors and shuffles his way down the hall. Jarvis lets him into Steve's quarters without a word, and Bucky continues to shuffle unimpeded, thoughts on the jug of ice water in Steve's fridge and little else. It takes him a moment, therefore, to register the warm laughter coming from the living room. He catches himself just before he goes inside, and instead peers around the doorframe, curious.

He stopped scheduling Sarah's appointments on the same days as his after the first week, when both of them kept coming back sullen and shaken and in no fit state to help or be helped by each other. This is why Sarah has spent the last couple of hours with Steve, and why she is still with Steve - and, apparently, why she appears to be snuggled up next to Steve on the sofa.

"Why this one?" she's asking, fingertips resting against the book in Steve's hands. "Is it your favourite?"

"It's one of my favorites," Steve admits. "I've always liked fantasy a bit more, but your dad introduced me to Mrs Mary Shelley, and I loved her work. I thought you might like it, too."

Sarah twists to look up at Steve, and Bucky ducks quickly behind his corner. "Why did my dad like it?"

"Because he's always been a big geek," Steve confides in a stage whisper. "He used to drag me to all sorts of shows, even the big exhibitions Howard Stark gave every year. Whenever I asked him where we were going, he'd say, 'To the future!'" Steve pauses, considering for a moment. "I think he liked this one in particular because of the technology Shelley talks about in it, and because it was an interesting tale. Something we could both relate to."

Sarah hums thoughtfully, and Bucky hears the careful turning of pages. "Does he still like it?"

"I don't know," is Steve's answer. "I haven't seen him reading it since he came back. He does still like science fiction, though. Maybe he just hasn't gotten around to reading _Frankenstein _again yet."

Bucky closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall with a soft _thump_, while Sarah asks, "But you still like it, right?"

"I do," Steve confirms. "For a bit different reason, though. You know how you and I and your dad were made? The scientist who gave me this body was a good man, but he didn't tell me everything about what would happen. And then, after I got out of the machine, I was made to do some things I didn't really enjoy."

Bucky winces again, but Sarah presses on. "Things like my dad was?"

"Not as bad, no," Steve says quietly, a little sadly. "He was made to do things like what this Creature did. But I think maybe he worries that he chose to do those things, like the Creature chose to. Maybe that's why he hasn't read this again."

There's a long pause after that, during which Bucky holds his breath, but then Sarah asks, soft and tentative, "Can I read it?"

"It doesn't have a very happy ending," Steve says honestly. "But you can, if you want to. I'll answer any questions you have."

Bucky keeps holding his breath until Sarah murmurs a soft thanks, and then he steels himself and rounds the corner. "Hey," he says, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "What's going on?"

Steve looks up at Bucky's greeting, surprise writ clear on his expression before he grins. "We're getting ready to read a classic. _Frankenstein. _Don't worry, I gave her all the warnings about it being serious and kind of sad."

Bucky raises his eyebrows. "It is serious," he agrees. "I think I used to like it, though. Are you reading it together?"

"We were," Steve says, giving Sarah a nudge and a teasing smile. "I think your dad's angling for an invitation, though."

"We can't all read it," Sarah points out. She gives Steve a winning smile. "Unless you read it to us?"

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing," Steve warns her, but he's smiling. "If Bucky wants to join in, I suppose I can read it to you."

But Bucky hesitates. "I don't know," he says. "I might just head to the gym."

Sarah turns her beseeching gaze on him. "_You're always in the gym,_" she says in Russian - and then, in English, "Come sit with us. Please?"

Bucky's helpless to refuse. "Fine," he says. "Fine, budge over."

Sarah does - and then immediately climbs into Bucky's lap, reaching over to tug Steve closer by the arm. Steve goes with a grin, settling in next to Bucky and holding his breath waiting to see how he'll react; they haven't been this close since they sparred, pressed together from shoulder to knee, but if Bucky's uncomfortable with it, Steve will move. 

Bucky tenses for all of three seconds, but then he adjusts Sarah on his lap, and gives Steve a wary smile. "Get on with it, then."

Steve relaxes too, returning Bucky's grin with a small, pleased smile of his own. "Alright. But I'm not doing voices!"

He ends up doing the voices. 

* * *

Steve reads to them for an hour or so, Sarah engrossed from the start and stopping him every few minutes to ask a question. Bucky can't answer them, but Steve can, and Bucky finds himself dozing on Steve's shoulder towards the end. Natasha swings by just around the time Steve's voice starts drying up and steals Sarah away for sisterly bonding, but not before she gives Bucky a look that makes all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Bucky was the world's most deadly assassin for almost seventy years; that's not easy to do.

He sits up away from Steve, his face heating, and pushes his hair out of his eyes. "So," he says, still not looking at Steve. "You're pretty good at that. With the voices."

Steve laughs, but there's something off about it, stilted. "Yeah, I guess. I did a couple of readings at children's hospitals with Thor and Clint."

Bucky does look at him then, something surprised and warm in his eyes. "That's real sweet, Steve," he says quietly. "So was this."

Steve's cheeks flush rather brilliantly at the compliment. "It was nothing," he mumbles. "I like Sarah. I like seeing her happy."

If it's even possible, Bucky's expression softens further still. "She's a good girl," he agrees. "Interesting choice, though."

"_Frankenstein?_" Steve asks. "I figured she could relate."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "She's not the only one," he observes. "I heard you earlier."

Steve blushes again. "Oh. You did? Well, I... I mean, it's not like it's a completely inaccurate metaphor."

"I know," Bucky tells him, eyebrow raised. "I'm not mad."

"Oh. Oh, good. Well, um. We didn't finish it today, maybe you want to... join us next time?"

"Maybe," Bucky says. "Like you said, it's a little close to home. I can't look at it the way I used to."

Steve nods. "I get that. I look at it a bit differently, too. I think that's what happens when you go through shit, though. You start looking at everything differently."

"Deep," Bucky says. "I should tell that to my therapist."

Steve laughs. "Yeah, sure. How's that going?"

"I don't know," Bucky admits. "It's helping, I think. Sass more than me, though."

"But it's still helping?"

"I guess." Bucky smiles. "Haven't gone crazy and tried to kill anyone yet, have I?"

Steve laughs. "No, no you haven't. That's a pretty good sign that _something's _helping."

Bucky's smile takes on a rueful edge. "The flashbacks and the panic attacks aren't great, though."

Steve winces. "I bet not. Any... idea what triggers them?"

"Sometimes normal PTSD stuff," Bucky says, and then again, with air-quotes, "'Normal.'" He shrugs. "Sometimes not."

"Anything you want to share? Maybe I could help, or at least know not to do whatever it is," Steve asks earnestly. 

But Bucky just shrugs. "It can be really weird stuff," he says. "I don't even know it's going to happen most times. Just, uhh. Don't touch my head, make noise when you come into a room, that kind of thing."

Steve nods, expression serious. "No head-touching or sneaking up on you, got it. Mind if I tell Clint about the sneaking? Guy's worse than a goddamn cat sometimes."

Bucky shrugs. "Sure. It's in his own interest, so."

Steve gives Bucky a small smile. "You seem like you're making progress, though," he says quietly. "You seem... more settled than when you first showed up."

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, "I guess I am. I couldn't relax before, when I had to keep us moving." He smiles at Steve. "I don't have to look over my shoulder here."

Steve does reach over this time, laying a hand on Bucky's shoulder and squeezing slightly. "I'm glad you feel safe here."

"Of course I do," Bucky answers, his smile softening. "You're here."

Steve blinks, then beams at Bucky. "Really? I mean, I thought... For a while there, I thought that maybe I was making things worse for you."

"No," Bucky tells him, swift and sure. "Things are bad in general, but you don't make them worse. You help."

Steve's smile turns soft, pleased, maybe a little shy before he glances down at the floor. "Oh. Well, I'm glad. That I help. I'm here however you need me, Buck."

Bucky lets out a soft breath, and something inside of him settles. "I know," he murmurs.

* * *

Three weeks later, Natasha suggests that Bucky and Steve forgo their morning run in favour of taking her and Sarah for breakfast. Barton tags along too, which is unexpected but not unwelcome, and they actually have a nice morning. They're walking back to the tower, and Bucky is just thinking that they should do this again sometime, that maybe he and Sarah can actually have normal things like this on the regular, when it all goes to shit. A smattering of gunfire erupts from a nearby alleyway, and Bucky reacts on instinct, throwing Sarah to the ground and spinning to pursue their assailant - but then Natasha has hold of his arm in a firm grip she has to know isn't strong enough to hold him, and Barton is yelling that it's okay, it's just a bunch of kids, there's no danger, and Steve is picking Sarah up off the sidewalk and he looks _scared_, and--

There is no threat. _He's_ the threat.

He runs.

Steve doesn't even hear Natasha curse, already focusing on passing Sarah safely to Clint before he takes off after Bucky. He's not sure what happened, why Bucky's run, but he knows he can't let Bucky out of his sight. 

Bucky runs across what must half of the city before ducking into an alley in one of the few quiet blocks, Steve on his heels. He slows as Bucky does, making sure to hold himself as non-threateningly as possible as he approaches Bucky; he has no idea who's at the helm right now. "Buck?"

"Stay away from me!" Bucky snarls, one hand flung out towards Steve, the other braced against the nearest wall. He hangs his head, hair falling into his eyes, and heaves in great gasps of breath.

"Bucky, you're okay," Steve says, taking a couple of small steps closer, not quite bridging the distance between them yet. "Everyone's fine. It was just some asshole with firecrackers."

But Bucky can't seem to hear him. "I said get away! It's not safe!"

"Bucky, I'm fine, and so are you," Steve says firmly. "Look, I got freaked out by that asshole and his firecrackers, too, okay? You didn't hurt anyone, everyone's safe."

Bucky just shakes his head, his eyes screwed shut and his hand clenched into a fist against the wall.

Steve hesitates only for another moment before he moves forward once again, reaching out to lay his hand over the one Bucky's curled into a fist. "Everyone is safe," he repeats. "Bucky, we're all fine. No one was hurt."

Bucky flinches back from Steve's touch, but the movement brings his gaze up to meet Steve's, and his eyes widen. "Steve," he breathes, backing up like a caged animal. "What happened?"

Steve doesn't let him go far, stepping forward as Bucky goes backward, keeping the distance between them even. "Some asshole lit off some firecrackers in an alley we were passing. It sounded an awful lot like gunshots, and you reacted quickly. Dove on Sarah, got her out of any potential harm, then tried to find the shooter. I don't know why, but right after that, you bolted."

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, pushes an even shakier hand through his hair. "There wasn't a shooter," he says. "The only danger was..."

Steve follows his line of reasoning quickly, and shakes his head even before Bucky finishes speaking. "No," he says, tone brooking no argument. "You weren't a danger, Bucky. What you did, you went immediately into 'protect' mode. You didn't act threatening toward anyone. And even if you had, Nat and I were there. We would have stopped you."

Bucky snorts in derision. "You can't stop me," he says. "DC proved that."

"That was when you were entirely the Soldier," Steve points out. "Now, you're more Bucky than you are him. And you wouldn't get the drop on us, either."

Bucky isn't convinced, but he can address Steve's dangerous tendency to trust to the point of arrogance later, once his heart has stopped pounding. "I don't want to hurt you," he says, a little desperately. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I know," Steve says reassuringly. "And that's the biggest part of why I think we could stop you. But you don't feel like hurting anyone now, and when you ran, did you feel like hurting anyone, then?"

"No," Bucky says. "No, I-- No. But I could have."

"Could have," Steve concedes, stepping closer until he can reach out and lay a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "But you didn't. And you didn't want to. That counts for an awful lot, Bucky. It means you'd be easier to bring around if something did happen and you reacted by fighting, not running."

Bucky sighs, keeps himself from leaning into Steve's touch with visible effort. "Why are you helping me?" he asks, and he doesn't just mean right now.

"Because I care about you," Steve says gently. "Because you've been through hell, and you deserve help. Because I want to see you enjoy life without being constantly worried something will happen and you'll be back under someone else's control."

Bucky blinks at him, slow and wondering. "You mean that, don't you?" he asks quietly.

"I always mean what I say," Steve says with a smile.

Bucky blows out a breath, manages a shaky smile in return. "We should probably find the others."

Steve nods, pulling out his phone to give Natasha a call. "They probably headed back to the Tower; none of them could have kept up with us for as long as we ran."

* * *

They take it slow on the way back to the Tower, and Natasha meets them on Steve's floor. "Sarah's at the range with Clint," she tells them. "She's okay."

Bucky closes his eyes. "Thank god."

Steve elbows Bucky lightly. "I told you she was," he says quietly before turning his attention to Natasha. "You didn't have any trouble getting back here?"

Natasha shakes her head. "Sass wanted to go after you, but I told her you were in the best hands." She gives them both an unreadable look, and then asks, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky rasps. "I'm good. I just freaked out, and I'm-- I'm sorry."

"We both kind of freaked out," Steve admits. "Those firecrackers got to me, too. But Bucky didn't hurt anyone on the run. Didn't even knock into anyone, I don't think."

"I didn't," Bucky says. "I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"We talked about it on the way back, and we were wondering if you might have any ideas about what we can do to? To help prevent something like this, or do damage control, maybe," Steve adds. "We're going to ask the others, too."

"In my experience, familiarity breeds contempt," Natasha offers. "Getting out there and experiencing the world first-hand is the only way you can get used to things like this."

Steve nods. "But what about if something like this happens, but Bucky doesn't run?" he asks thoughtfully. "I don't think it would be likely," he says to Bucky, "but we should probably think about it just in case." 

"Well," Natasha says, "I think today proved that even if something does happen that makes you default back to the Soldier, you're still going to be quite disoriented. As long as you're with Steve, or someone like me or Stark, we should be able to incapacitate you before you can hurt someone."

Bucky nods. "That might be the best option anyway, just in case."

"Stark's suits are pretty powerful," Steve says thoughtfully. "They'd probably help to at least keep you busy until we could snap you out of it. Maybe we do some more of what we've been doing? You and I going out, maybe at different times of the day, and just... getting used to the twenty-first century?"

"That's pretty much all you can do," Natasha agrees. "And you can trust Steve to keep you in check."

"Of course I can," Bucky says, frowning.

Steve briefly lays a hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing once before letting go. "Thanks, Nat. Hope today didn't put you off coming out with us again sometime."

Natasha shrugs him off. "Don't be ridiculous," she says. "If anything, it's made me want to go out with you more. At least it won't be boring."

* * *

Sarah spends about another hour at the range before returning to Steve's floor, and the first thing she does is give Bucky a hug. "I'm all right," he tells her, his right hand gentle as he strokes her hair. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"I was more worried than scared," Sarah says, the words muffled in Bucky's shirt. "You ran off, what if Steve couldn't find you?"

Bucky's gaze finds Steve's over the top of Sarah's head, his expression intense but unreadable. "Steve's really good at finding me," he says. "And he's like us. He can keep up."

Sarah snorts, pulling back to give Bucky an unimpressed look. "I know he is, but you're tricky, and you don't always play fair. _And _you're always complaining about how unobservant Steve can be."

Steve lifts an eyebrow, lips twitching. "I mean, I was pretty unobservant before," he agrees. "But I would hope I've gotten better at tracking your dad."

Sarah huffs. "But he still _shouldn't run away. _Not when we're here to help him."

"I don't always remember that," Bucky reminds her gently. He releases her, and switches to Russian. "_I'll always come back to you, though._"

Sarah frowns. "_You better,_" she says sternly. "_Or Steve and I will have to come looking for you._"

Bucky smiles. "_I love you._"

"_I love you, too,_" Sarah says with a smile of her own. 

"So, are we all good?" Steve asks. "You're going to try not to run quite so far, and we'll come after you when you do?"

"Pretty much," Bucky agrees. "But for now, I'm fucking starving."

"I am, too," Sarah confesses; Steve's hit with a double whammy of Barnes puppy eyes, and gives in easily, throwing his hands up in surrender as he laughs. 

"Pretty sure I've got some burgers saved, and some of that homemade seasoning," he offers. "Burgers and fries sound good?"

Bucky grins. "Sounds amazing."

* * *

They hang out for the rest of the day, and Steve stays up with Bucky long after Sarah turns in. They're just watching TV, reclined back against the cushions on Bucky's makeshift bed, and they haven't really said anything for the past half hour when Bucky turns to Steve and asks, "So you remember Italy?"

Steve blinks at the sudden question before cautiously answering, "Depends. Lot of stuff happened while we were in Italy."

Bucky makes himself hold Steve's gaze. "I didn't know if I remembered it right," he admits. "But I did. Didn't I?"

Steve wants to look away, the weight of this moment almost too much to bear, but he makes himself hold Bucky's gaze as he asks, "What did you remember?"

Bucky wets his lips. "Us," he says. "Passing the time, when we thought it was about to run out."

Steve swallows hard. "Yeah, that was true," he says quietly. "Didn't think we'd have a lot, back then."

"We didn't," Bucky points out. "It ran out before we ever thought it would. But... we passed the time."

Steve hesitates. "We did, but... it was a little more than just passing time for me."

Bucky blinks. "You never told me," he says, soft but certain.

Steve shakes his head. "I didn't," he agrees. "Never thought it was anything more to you, and by then... I was just taking whatever you'd give me."

Bucky shakes his head. "You're a goddamn fool, Steven Grant."

Steve goes still. "What?"

"You heard me," Bucky says. "A goddamn fool. I've always told you that anyone doesn't want you must need their eyes checked."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't - I didn't think that you meant - "

"You didn't ask." Bucky sighs, and his next words come out slow, heavy. "I loved you," he says. "Given half the chance, I'll love you again. But this time, I'll do it right." 

Steve's mouth snaps shut, almost biting his tongue as he makes himself consider his response carefully. The moment feels heavy, weighted, like if he says the wrong thing it'll tip to the side, fall and shatter. He swallows down the lump in his throat before saying, "Me, too. I loved you. Mourned you, but... I'd love you again. Wouldn't be difficult, you've always made it easy."

Bucky's smile is soft and a little shy. "I don't know about that. Certainly wouldn't be easy now."

"Been pretty easy to like you so far," Steve offers, his own smile a little hesitant, wary of scaring Bucky off. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, but his tone is fond when he says, "You're full of it."

"I am not!" Steve protests, miffed. "We went back to being friends, didn't we?"

"Yeah, after I tried to kill you at least three times," Bucky says.

Steve frowns. "You were running away the first time I saw you," he says, thinking back. "Then there was the road, and the helicarrier - but then I'm pretty sure you dragged me out of the river, so I don't really think that counts. What was the third time?"

Bucky passes a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know," he says. "I've hurt so many people, it's hard to keep track. That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Steve asks gently.

Bucky lets out a soft breath. "That this isn't going to be easy."

Steve nods slowly. "It won't," he agrees. "I know there's... A lot of times you or Sass wake up in the middle of the night and try not to wake me up. I know there's a lot you haven't talked to me about, or that she hasn't talked to me about. And that the two of you are a package deal. But I still want to give this a try, Buck. We can take it as slow as we need to, but I'd still like to try."

Bucky takes a moment to process this, but they both know his answer. "Okay," he says. "We'll try."

* * *

Natasha catches Steve in the communal kitchen the next day while he's looking to borrow some milk, and she gives him a small but warm smile. "How is he?" she asks.

"As well as can be," Steve says honestly. "Bit worried about going out again, but..." He smiles, a soft, fond quirk of his lips. "He told me that Sarah told him that if he ran off again, she and I would just have to find him."

Natasha smiles too. "She's a smart girl," she says.

"She is," Steve agrees. He doesn't say anything for a moment, busying himself with the milk, but eventually he speaks again. "We... Did you know we were together during the war?"

Natasha doesn't look surprised, but that doesn't really mean much. "I figured something along those lines," she says. "I don't know the specifics, though."

"We were both idiots," Steve tells her with a laugh. "Didn't think it meant to him what it did to me, and he thought the same. But we decided... We want to try again. Slowly, because there's still a - a lot to deal with, but we wanted to try when we're on the same page."

"Wow," Natasha says. "That's big. How do you feel about it?"

"Nervous, but mostly excited," Steve confesses. "We _had_ to hide, back then, even though all we thought it was was passing time. Now, even if we don't let anyone outside of the Tower know, it's our choice. If we think this is going to work, and it's worth it, we could tell more people. We wouldn't have to hide. And I know there was a lot I was holding back, before; I'm sure there was stuff he was, too. I'm excited to find out what it's like to actually be with him."

Natasha regards him for a moment. "I hope it goes without saying," she says, "that he's not the man you knew back then. And that he has a kid." She hesitates. "Or two."

"We talked about both," Steve reassures her. "We're both different, and that's why we're taking it slow. And you're already my friend, and I like Sarah. Pretty sure she likes me, but we don't know how she'll like me as her dad's partner. There's a lot we don't know or aren't sure about, or that's different from before, so we're planning on taking our time figuring things out."

Natasha smiles then. "I'm happy for you," she says. "It's about time."

The smile Steve gives her in return in small, but genuine. "Thanks. How are things with you and Bucky?"

Natasha shrugs. "They're fine. I don't think we're ever going to be _close_."

"Who would've ever thought the future could be so weird," Steve muses. "But I get what you're saying. Sass seems to really like you, though. Looks up to you."

At this, Natasha smiles. "She's a great kid," she says. "She's strong, which is exactly what she needs to be."

"To live with what she's had done to her? Yeah," Steve agrees. "She talk to you about it?"

"A little," Natasha allows. "Does he talk to you about it?"

"A little," Steve says with a wry smile. "Nothing specific."

Natasha smiles back. "Have you talked to him about it?"

That gets a chuckle. "Fair point. It's hard to talk about what we've been through, but... Yeah, we've been making progress on that."

"Good. He might be in the limelight right now, but he's not the only one who's struggling."

Steve's smile is small, a bit uncertain, but he's sincere when he says, "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

It says something rather unnerving that she gets into his lab without him noticing or even being alerted by Jarvis, but Tony chooses not to think about it after he's finished jumping out of his goddamn skin.

"You don't like my dad very much, do you?"

"What?" he asks as his heartbeat starts getting back under control, no longer pounding in his ears. "What makes you say that?"

"You don't talk to him," Sarah says. "If he walks into a room you walk out of it. And... you look at him like you're not sure if you want to punch him or not."

Tony sighs. "It's... Your dad and I have a complicated history. It's something I'm trying to be reasonable about, but adults have weird ways of being 'reasonable' sometimes."

"Did he try to kill you too?" Sarah asks.

Tony takes a deep breath, blows it out hard. "No. But he did kill my parents. My dad was an asshole, that's - but he killed my mom. He was still the Winter Soldier, he was made to do it, but that just makes it more complicated."

"Because you want to hate him," Sarah guesses, "but you know it's not his fault."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Tony agrees, turning back to DUM-E's arm. It had been jerky lately, and if this conversation goes on much longer, he's definitely going to need something to keep his hands busy so that he can think clearly. "I know, logically, that what Hydra did to your dad was... Fucking awful, but don't repeat that first word, or at least don't tell anyone you heard it from me. I know that everything they made him do after they broke him isn't his fault, and I genuinely don't blame him for anything else. I don't even blame him for this, but every time I see him, I see that grainy security camera footage."

"There's footage?" Sarah demands. "You saw him do it?"

"I saw the Winter soldier do it," Tony corrects - but he sounds like he's trying to convince himself as much as Sarah. "Just once, but... Once is enough."

Sarah nods, and considers Tony for a long moment. "Why did you let us stay here?" she asks. "If he makes you feel like that?"

"Because he needed a safe place to stay," Tony says without hesitation. "You both did. Neither of you deserved what was done to you."

"But you hate him," Sarah says bluntly. "Or at least strongly dislike him. Why not put us up somewhere else? You're rich enough."

"I am," Tony concedes easily. "And I could. But this is Steve's home, for as long as he wants it to be. And I know how much Barnes means to him. But _I _don't know Barnes well enough to decide if I want him out. I know he's not the Winter Soldier, anything else is my issue, and my problem to solve. Not his."

"Are you going to get to know him?" Sarah asks then. "To find out if you want him to leave?"

"You don't give up, do you?" Tony asks, looking at Sarah with a raised eyebrow. "I plan to, eventually. But I need to get my head on straight about who he is _now _first."

Sarah shrugs. "I don't think you can know who someone is before you get to know them," she says, "but what do I know? I'm just a kid."

Tony squints at her. "Is being a smartass a byproduct of the serum or is it a requirement?" It's clearly a rhetorical question, because Tony doesn't wait for an answer before continuing, "Alright, baby Widow, what do you think I should talk to your dad about that won't be terribly awkward for everyone around? And if your answer takes longer than thirty seconds I'm drafting you into my tool-passer so we can work and talk."

Sarah rolls her eyes and hands Tony the screwdriver he's reaching for. "Whatever you want," she says. "Maybe start with not making up some bullshit excuse the next time the others invite you to dinner." She shoots him a sardonic look. "You're not the first person to swear in front of me, you know."

Tony points at her with the screwdriver. "You still shouldn't repeat it. Adults are dumbasses, and I am no exception. Besides, not all my excuses are bullshit."

Sarah just raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

"Hey, who's the adult who's also the head inventor and still part the board of Stark Industries?" Tony demands, miffed. 

"I don't know," Sarah says with a smirk. "I thought that was you, but surely the head inventor of Stark Industries wouldn't stand here and argue about common sense with a little girl."

to Charlie

"You'd be surprised how few people have any common sense," Tony retorts. "Including me, if you listen to Pepper."

"That's not really a surprise, though, is it?" Sarah shoots back.

Tony narrows his eyes. "Oh? And what do you know about common sense, Ms. Smarty-Pants?"

"More than you."

That earns a bark of a laugh. "Well, I may not know how I like your dad, but I definitely like you," Tony chuckles. "Hand me those pliers, would you? How much schooling did you get? Was it all in how to take down people three times your size or did you learn regular subjects, too?"

Sarah does as she's told, and shrugs. "I can read and do math," she says. "I can take guns and cars apart and put them back together. I don't think they teach you that in normal schools, though."

"Normal schools are overrated," Tony scoffs. "They care too much about standardized testing because the government is full of idiots living in the past and too concerned with profits. You ever worked with robots before?"

"No," Sarah says. "Why?"

"Would you like to?"

Tony grins. "I will. I'll even hold a civil conversation with him that's longer than two sentences."

Sarah grins too, and sticks out her hand. "Then you have a deal, Mr Stark."

* * *

Tony has to make good on that deal a lot sooner than anticipated; Jarvis gives him a warning about an incoming visitor, but Tony's busy fighting with a stubborn lug nut. He doesn't hear _who _the visitor is until Sarah calls, "Dad!" and something else in Russian. 

Tony pinches himself between the wrench and the bolt he'd moved onto, swearing under his breath before looking up. "Oh, hey. Didn't think you'd ever voluntarily step in here, what with your experience with labs and all." He immediately wants to hit himself over the head with the wrench still in his hand. 

Sarah looks at him like she's thinking the same thing, but Bucky just shrugs. "Your robot butler told me my daughter was here," he says. "I wanted to make sure you weren't experimenting on her."

"I would never," Tony says, scowling. "For one thing, human experimentation is unethical and just plain wrong to do on anyone but yourself, and the only reason I've experimented on myself is because of this glowstick in my chest trying to kill me with palladium poisoning. For another, even if I wanted to do anything with her, she's a minor, and at the very least I'd need her guardian's permission." Tony makes himself stop and take a deep breath. "She wandered down here to ask me some questions, and when she didn't leave after the first couple I asked her to pass me some tools and showed her some things about how my robots work. That's all."

Unimpressed, Bucky simply cuts his gaze to Sarah. "You okay?" he asks.

Sarah grins. "Yeah. Mr Stark was just showing me some robot stuff, like he said."

"What kind of questions did you have for him?" Bucky presses.

"She wanted to know why I never talked to you," Tony says, sounding nervous now. "Wanted me to try to... be civil, at least, with you. Not run off with 'bullshit excuses' - her phrase - whenever you came into a room."

Bucky closes his eyes. "Sass," he says, "Stark and I have a very difficult past."

"No you don't," Sarah argues. "Mr Stark and the _Winter Soldier_ have a difficult past. You didn't kill his parents."

"But I remember it," Bucky says, his gaze shooting to Stark and away again. "This is none of your business, Sarah."

"But she's your kid," Tony points out. "What affects you affects her. And... Well, it bothers you, doesn't it? Every time I walk out of a room you just entered because I can't look at you without seeing that footage."

Bucky's jaw clenches. "It doesn't matter if it bothers me."

"Yeah, actually, it does, because you're a human being and your feelings matter."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Not really," he says. "But that's not the point."

Tony frowns. "Then what is the point?"

"The point," Bucky grits out, "is that you can't look at me without seeing that footage. And I can't look at you without seeing myself creating that footage."

"Oh." That... honestly had not occurred to Tony, that perhaps Barnes remembered his own version of that night. He clears his throat before speaking again. "Do you... want to try to, I don't know, make... better memories of each other? Friendship dates or whatever the hell the kids are calling it these days?"

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Jesus Christ," he says. "Put that shit down, Sass, we're out of here."

Tony shrugs at the exasperated look Sarah gives him. "Sorry. But hey, if you want to come work with me again, just let Jarvis know, alright? No more sneaking into the lab when you don't know if I might be working on something dangerous."

"No more sneaking into the lab _at all_," Bucky snaps, when Sarah opens her mouth like she might argue. She closes it quickly enough.

"Fine. You're no fun, either of you."

"Good."

* * *

Things are quiet over the next few days; Sarah comes back to the lab once, more to play with the bots and ask Tony questions about his suits than anything else, but Tony doesn't mind. He likes Sarah, she's quick and funny, and more than sharp enough to ask intelligent questions about Tony's and the rest of the team's work. He's still unsure about Barnes, however, but when he ventures out of his lab in the middle of a science binge in search of something a bit more sustaining than cracker packs, he runs into the rest of the team eating dinner in the communal kitchen. Barnes and Steve are closest to the fridge, splitting leftover lasagna, and Tony hesitates. He debates with himself for only a moment before catching sight of Sarah watching him intently. Tony very maturely sticks his tongue out at her judging eyebrow, and squares his shoulders before heading towards the fridge. "Barnes, Rogers," he says politely. "You didn't clean out the fridge with your superhuman metabolisms, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Bucky snipes, though they did no such thing. "Hard luck."

Tony rolls his eyes as Steve elbows Bucky lightly. "Better not have left me just the rabbit food," he mutters as he pulls open the fridge. It takes some digging, but he manages to find some leftover chili, and after finding a bit of sour cream as well, he settles on that. "So what've the geriatrics been up to lately? Your kid's been hanging out with me - I like her, by the way, you're doing a good job with her - because you two have been 'boring' her."

"No offence, Stark, but the last person I need to validate my ability as a parent is you."

"Rude," Tony snorts; this is the longest, weirdly most polite conversation he and Barnes have had, and it's earning them some odd looks. Tony mentally wills his chili to heat faster. "I had a kid like her, I'd be worried she's too smart for me to keep up with."

Bucky remains unimpressed. "Well unlike you, Stark, I'm not intimidated or threatened by the concept that my child might be smarter than me."

Tony huffs as the microwave beeps. "Genius kids are always troublemakers, that's what I meant." He grabs his bowl and decides to head out while the getting is good. "Later losers."

Bucky watches him go, and then completely ignores Sarah's pointed gaze in favour of giving Steve a quizzical look. "What the hell was that about?"

Steve, who's buried his face in his hands, finally lets out the laugh that's been threatening to choke him for the past four minutes. "That," he wheezes, getting himself back under control, "was Tony attempting to bulldoze through the awkwardness. I have a feeling Sass gave him quite the kicking over how he's been avoiding you."

"She did," Bucky says darkly, "and I told him not to listen to her."

"Tony's a contrary bastard sometimes, and he tends to get ideas stuck in his head," Steve tells him. "He probably was going to try once or twice when Sass got after him, but then you told him don't even think about it, and now he's determined to get on better terms with you."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I hate your friends," he says.

Clint pouts. "All of us?"

"Yes."

Sarah pats Clint on the arm. "I still like you, Clint."

Steve laughs, giving Bucky's arm a gentle squeeze. "If he seriously bothers you, let me know, and I'll see if maybe I can get Pepper to get through to him. Or Rhodey, he tends to listen to them more than he ever does the rest of us."

"Nah," Bucky sighs. "Let him do whatever he needs to. But you." He treats Sarah to a cutting look. "You need to stop meddling, do you hear me?"

Sarah huffs. "Then you need to do something about your problems yourself," she counters.

"I _am_," Bucky insists. "You are a child; you don't know what's best for me."

"_I know that it's not good to be on such shaky ground with the man who holds your partner's life in his hands sometimes,_" Sarah retorts. "_How can you trust him to look after Steve if you don't ever talk to him? How can he trust you with the same?_"

This actually gives Bucky pause; his glare intensifies. "_This doesn't mean you can keep meddling._"

Sarah matches him glare for glare. "_Then do something about it yourself._"

Bucky smiles. "_I don't take orders anymore._"

* * *

Tony's method of 'bulldoze through the awkwardness' seems to work; over the next few weeks, they start becoming more at ease in each other's presence, if not exactly _relaxed,_ and while their conversations tend to involve mostly snarky comments, there's no heat behind them. 

Steve's still blindsided when Bucky pulls him aside after Sarah's headed to bed and tells him he wants to go on missions. "You... want to get back into the fight? I thought..."

"What?" Bucky asks, not unkindly. "That I wanted to settle down and raise my kid?" He smiles. "The white picket fence thing was never for me, Steve. I do want to raise Sarah, but I want to do it right. I want to do it knowing I took out the bastards that hurt us with my own hands."

"I didn't think you'd really want to get back into fighting unless you needed to," Steve says. "You never even wanted to go into the Army in the first place, and after everything that happened..."

"But I do need to," Bucky tells him. "How can I even hope to live a normal life while they're still out there? They could find us anytime, find a way to make me kill for them again, make _Sarah_ kill for them." He takes a breath. "I was going after them before I found Sass anyway. I only stopped because I didn't want to put her in danger. But now I don't have to worry about that, do I?"

Steve takes a breath. "No, you don't. What do you mean, they could make you kill for them again?"

Bucky just looks at him. "You think I did it by choice?"

"No, but... You said it like there was some switch they could flip."

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. "Well," he says, "there is."

"There is?" Steve asks carefully, gently pushing. 

Bucky scowls. "It's not a switch," he says, stubborn. "It's... a code. Some words, in the right order. I don't know what they are. I just know what they do to me."

Steve nods, reaches out to take Bucky's hand, offering comfort even if he’s not quite sure how much Bucky wants or needs right now. "Well, we've got resources here. Would you... maybe want to think about trying to find a way to fix it?"

"Obviously," Bucky says, bristling, though he doesn't take his hand back. "I'd just also like the pleasure of personally burning every single Hydra asshole alive."

Steve runs his thumb over the back of Bucky's hand. "Alright. I'll talk with the team, see what they think, and maybe you could join us down in the training room? Start working with everyone else and see where you fit in."

"Sure," Bucky agrees, easily enough. "But I don't want to be an Avenger, Steve."

"Lot of pressure comes with it," Steve agrees. "If you want to fight with us, I'm for it. But I won't push for you to join the team officially. You just want Hydra."

"I do," Bucky agrees. "If you really need backup, I'll be there, unofficially. But I don't want anyone followin' me."

"We'll do our best to keep that from happening," Steve promises. 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "I meant you," he says.

Steve opens his mouth, closes it, then tries again. "Okay, you've lost me," he admits. 

"I’m doing this because I know you'll keep her safe," Bucky says. "You can't come with me."

Steve frowns. "And what, let you go off alone? No, I can't do that. At least take Nat with you, if you're worried about the giant shield tipping Hydra off."

"No," Bucky says. "I'm doing it alone."

"Buck, you don't have to do it alone, and it'd be safer if you didn't," Steve says. "Nat's experienced, and she's trained for stealth. You go out there alone you're gonna give both me _and _Sarah heart attacks, or we might end up talking each other into following you."

Bucky glares at him. "I won't risk anyone else. Hydra has already taken enough from me," he says evenly. "Let me have this. Give me the dignity of my choice, Steve."

Steve sighs. "Fine. At least take Jarvis with you - some way of getting backup there quicker if things go south," he pleads. "I can't... I won't just sit back and do nothing if it's your life on the line again, Buck. I can't live through that again."

Bucky searches his face, and for a moment Steve thinks he might argue, but he just nods. "Okay," he says. "I get that."

Steve relaxes a little, but he can't help but push, "So you'll find a way to take Jarvis with you, to keep in touch?"

"Sure," Bucky says, "if it'll help you sleep at night."

"Well, maybe not _sleep _but it'll keep me from re-enacting Azzano without cause," Steve says, only half-teasing. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "You always were a drama queen."

* * *

The conversation between Bucky and Tony about what gear to take is oddly enough the easiest one they've ever had. Apparently if you get Tony talking about technology he forgets about everything else that might be going on. They argue briefly about which weapons to use, Tony begrudgingly agreeing that regular, civilian-grade weapons are probably the way to go. "But," he'd added, "I'm going to smooth out the reloading and firing mechanisms, make sure your weapons won't jam on you." He'd also muttered something under his breath that Bucky had chosen to ignore about some extra surprises for anyone else who tried to grab any of the gear.

Steve and Sarah have both been jittery in the days leading up to Bucky's first mission, and it takes three times as long as usual to get Sarah settled down into bed. When she finally agrees to at least lay down and try to go to sleep, Steve and Bucky leave her to it. As they walk down the hall, however, Steve reaches out to grab Bucky's sleeve. "Hey, wait a moment. I... wanted to ask you something."

Bucky stops, turns to Steve with a curious look. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to... come sleep with me, tonight," Steve says hesitantly, not quite looking at Bucky. "Not like - not anything else. But I just want you close, tonight."

A beat of silence passes between them. "Are you sure?" Bucky asks.

Steve nods, his tone more firm when he speaks this time. "I'm sure."

Bucky smiles, soft and tentative. "Okay."

A smile crosses Steve's expression, soft and pleased. "Come on in, then."

Bucky could pull away, could say something about the bathroom and his pyjamas and take a moment to collect himself, but he just follows Steve into his room, slips his hand into Steve's and squeezes briefly before letting go and crossing to the side of the bed he's decided is his own. He starts undressing without a moment's thought, his back to Steve for no real reason, and when he's down to his boxers and t-shirt he slips beneath the covers. "Well?" he asks, looking at Steve expectantly.

Steve, who'd stripped as Bucky did, doesn't waste any time in joining Bucky. "Hi," he says, a little breathlessly; it's almost embarrassing, how long he's wanted Bucky in his bed like this. No real reason besides company, no ulterior motive. There's still more clothing between them than there was the last time they were in a bed - bedroll, technically - together, but this already feels far more intimate.

"Hi," Bucky murmurs back. He smiles, tucks his left hand under the pillow and takes Steve's hand with his right. It's the only place they're touching, and he makes no move to come closer, but his eyes soften a little, like this small thing is enough to make something inside of him settle. "Better?"

Tension he hadn't even realized was there leaks out of Steve's body as he sighs, smiles, and nods. "Yeah," he murmurs, grip tightening on Bucky's hand for a more solid connection. "Yeah, this is much better."

Bucky huffs a soft laugh, all kinds of fond. "Go to sleep, Steve."

”Yeah, yeah,” Steve hums. “Don’t you dare leave before waking me and Sarah up.”

"I won't," Bucky murmurs. He closes his eyes.

* * *

Bucky's beat to hell by the time he gets on the flight back to New York six days later, but by the time they touch down he's mostly fine, save for a little lingering tenderness around the ribs. He's grateful for it, knows Steve and Sarah wouldn't let him leave the Tower again if he came home in a state. He makes an effort to keep his gait open and relaxed, his smile easy and self-assured, when he reaches their floor - but there must still be something wild about his eyes, or else they just missed him that much, because Sarah flies at him as soon as he's through the door and Steve seems to be barely restraining himself from following her.

"Hey," he laughs, strokes his daughter's hair and meets Steve's gaze over the top of her head. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

Steve holds back for another moment, but then the dam breaks, and he's rushing forward almost as fast as Sarah had, pulling Bucky into a hug and squishing her between them. "Y'know, that really wasn't any easier than watching you board that train for basic," he mutters, hugging Bucky as closely and tightly as he dares with another human between them. 

Bucky rolls his eyes even as he reaches up to ruffle Steve's hair. "You worry too much," he says. "I'm back, ain't I?"

"You were gone almost a week," Sarah mumbles, indignant.

"I know," Bucky says, and he has the grace to sound regretful. "Jarvis told you I was okay, though, right?"

Steve huffs, but he doesn't make any move to get away from Bucky's teasing. "He did, and that's the only reason we were still here. Didn't think you'd be gone _that _long."

"Well, killing a whole bunch of people takes time," Bucky snipes back, without thinking.

Steve snorts, already resigned to the fact that Bucky would have had to kill people on this crusade-slash-vengeance mission of his. "Remember the missions we used to run? Took _weeks _of planning, and like, ten minutes to execute."

"The people we were killing then knew we were at war," Bucky says. "The people I'm targeting never see me coming."

"They're terrorists," Steve says flatly. "They chose to work for Hydra. I don't feel any sympathy for them."

"Good," Bucky says. "Neither do I."

"Me neither," Sarah mumbles, and Bucky pulls back like he's only just remembered she's sandwiched between them.

"Are you guys gonna let me in or what?"

Steve chuckles at that, stepping back. "Let's get him in and fed before going back to clinging monkeys, Sass."

"Yes please," Bucky groans. "I'm starving."

"Lucky for you, we fixed some of your favorites," Steve laughs. "Sarah helped quite a bit."

Bucky pulls Sarah close again, smacks a kiss to her temple. "You guys are too good to me," he says.

* * *

The three of them demolish all of the food Steve and Sarah had prepared, and then they move to the couch, Bucky leaning against Steve and Sarah curled up on his lap, something mindless playing on the television as they relax. It's not long before Sarah's fallen asleep, and Steve can't help the soft chuckle when he hears her snore. "She stayed up all night last night, waiting to hear you'd started back," he says quietly. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Of course you're the pushover in this equation," he says. "That's bad parenting, Steve." He seems to realise what he said a moment later, because he stills, and turns a damning shade of pink. "I mean, um."

"Hey, I couldn't very well be a hypocrite," Steve retorts. "I wasn't going to sleep until the news came in, either." He bites his lip, hesitates for a moment, then asks, almost shyly, "Parenting?" He doesn't know if he has the words to elaborate on everything that one word sparks in him, just that... he wants it. If Bucky does, too.

Sarah stirs then, and Bucky adjusts her slightly, strokes her hair until she settles again. "Aw hell, Stevie," he says, soft and a little shy, too. "Don't make me spell it out for ya."

"You and I both know how stupid I can be," Steve says. "Maybe you should, so I'm not getting the wrong idea."

Bucky gives a careful shrug. "I guess I don't want to do this alone."

"Well," Steve says, just as careful as Bucky's shrug, "if you want a partner in that... I'd be willing to help out."

Bucky smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve says, his own smile growing as he settles a little more comfortably beside Bucky. "Yeah, I'd - I'd really like that."

"Bet Sass would, too," Bucky says. "You're as much of a dad to her as I am, at this point."

Steve chuckles, glancing over at Sarah, still sleeping, before he looks at Bucky. "There's something I wanted to ask your opinion on," he confesses. 

"Oh yeah?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah. I... really liked having you in my bed, the night before you left. I was wondering if you'd like to stay there, maybe?"

Bucky blinks, _blushes_. "Oh," he says. "I-- yeah."

Steve grins. "Yeah?"

Bucky grins back. "Yeah."

"And if I were to ask if you ever thought about maybe doing a little more than cuddling..."

Bucky chuffs a soft laugh. "We haven't even been on a date yet," he says. "I'm not that kinda girl, Rogers."

"Well, if I take you out on a date, will you give me a good night kiss?" Steve asks, unable to repress the teasing grin that accompanies his words. 

"Maybe," Bucky sniffs. "You'll have to find out."

* * *

Things are quiet for the next few days while Bucky recovers from his mission, winding down and relaxing. Steve uses the time to do research, and a little more than a week after Bucky came back, he drags Bucky out of the Tower for a 'surprise.' "Just wait, you'll see when we get there," he keeps insisting as Happy drives them through the busy city streets. Bucky eventually subsides, and when they arrive outside of the Audubon Ballroom, there's a sign proclaiming '40s Dance Night,' and Steve turns to Bucky, nervous and excited at the same time. "Well?"

Bucky's answering grin is blinding. "Are you serious?" he asks. "You hate dancing."

"Yeah, well, I've seen you watching _Dancing With the Stars, _and maybe I'll like it better if I can dance with you instead of some dame I'm not really interested in."

Bucky laughs, bright and happy. "Well then, let's see if you remember how."

Steve ends up making quite the donation, and he and Bucky make one hell of a spectacle of themselves when Steve gets recognized and asked to lead his partner in a dance, to "demonstrate how it's really done!" Bucky does well, but Steve's still got two left feet on the dance floor, despite his agility on the battlefield. 

Afterwards, once they've grabbed drinks and food, Steve leads the way to a bench off to the side. "Having fun?" he asks, his cheeks hurting from grinning so much. 

"Are you joking?" Bucky asks. He hasn't stopped laughing since they got here, and he looks _radiant_. "This is the most fun I've had in decades. Literally!"

Steve beams. "I'm glad you're having fun," he laughs. "Give me a few minutes to eat something and we can head back out there, alright?"

Bucky's feet are already tapping out the rhythm of the song that's just started up, but he's hungry, too. "I guess I can wait," he says. "But we're not leaving until you can jitterbug as good as me."

Steve laughs and hands over the food he'd grabbed for Bucky, trading it for one of the drinks he's holding. "I don't think there's enough time in the world for that."

* * *

They give it a good shot, and it takes most of the night, but by the time they stumble out of the main doors, barely able to hold each other up for laughing, Steve can jitterbug almost half as well as Bucky.

They're still laughing when they reach the Tower, and Jarvis permits them entry to the building and then to the elevator with a greeting that sounds fondly exasperated. "Christ, Stevie," Bucky sighs, leaning back against the wall of the elevator. The lights are dim and yellow, and Steve's eyes are sparkling with mirth and something softer. "You really are somethin' else."

"Well I hope it's a good something else," Steve chuckles, leaning next to Bucky. "Would hate to think I blew it on the first date."

"You aced it," Bucky tells him. "You know you did."

Steve's smile softens, and he looks at Bucky, his emotions plain on his face. "Good. I'm glad you had fun."

Bucky smiles back. "I know you did, too," he says, soft and teasing. "You never enjoyed yourself that much when you were dancing with the dames back home."

"Well, I never wanted to dance with them," Steve says. "Partly because I didn't want to embarrass myself with the asthma or a heart attack, but there was someone else I'd rather have been dancing with."

"Yeah," Bucky says, his gaze going soft and warm. "Me too."

Steve hesitates, searching Bucky's expression before he leans in, hardly daring to breathe as Bucky leans in as well. The space between them closes, and Steve's eyes drift shut in anticipation- 

And the elevator beeps cheerfully at them, announcing their arrival at their floor.

Bucky huffs out a laugh and backs off, turning away to hide the shy grin on his face as he steps out of the elevator. "Think Sass is still awake?" he asks, a little redundantly. It must be getting on for two o'clock in the morning by now.

Steve chuckles, his own cheeks red even in the dim light. "I'd be seriously surprised. Nat said she was going to take her down to the gym for some training."

"We'll have the place to ourselves then," Bucky says. "As long as we're quiet."

Steve snickers. "What, planning to put out on the first date?" he asks, clearly teasing as he reaches for Bucky's hand, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Or are you going to revive the pillow fight tradition?"

"Neither," Bucky sniffs, lifting his chin. "I'm going to say goodnight and go to bed like a respectable lady."

"Oh, like a respectable lady who already shares her bed with a man she's not married to?" Steve laughs. "Go on, then; I'll be in in a minute."

Bucky laughs sharply but does as he's told, and doesn't wait for Steve to follow.

Bucky's already under the covers by the time Steve is done in the bathroom; he doesn't hesitate to join Bucky, nudging Bucky's knee with his own and smiling through the darkness. "Hey."

"Hey," Bucky murmurs. "Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome," Steve says quietly, moving almost on instinct as he reaches up to push a lock of hair out of Bucky's face. "Think you'd want to do something like that again?"

Bucky grins. "If you think you can keep up," he teases.

"There's only so many dancing events," Steve reasons. "And I don't particularly care for what clubs and bars call 'dancing.' But as long as we don't do that for _every_ date, I think I can put up with it." His tone turns teasing for the last sentence, and he scoots a little closer.

"What would you like to do?" Bucky asks, reaching out to pull Steve the rest of the way into his arms. "Dinner and a show? Museum tour? Go to a fair and hold hands at the top of the Ferris wheel? I might hook a duck and win you a stuffed unicorn, I hear those things are all the rage now."

"Hm, the fair sounds like a good idea. Had enough of stage shows, though. I know what goes on behind the scenes, the magic is gone."

"What about the silver screen?" Bucky asks. "They got colour now and everything."

Steve chuckles at that. "Yeah, they do. Maybe if something really interesting comes on and we're not in the middle of saving the world or hunting down Nazis.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "We do have a lot on our plates right now," he acknowledges, though there's a hint of a smile around his mouth. "Maybe we don't have time at all."

"Well, what _do _we have time for, then?" Steve teases. 

"Going to sleep," Bucky laughs. "Passing the coffee pot over the breakfast table, _if_ we get chance to eat. Certainly nothing fun."

"Oh, of course," Steve says, grinning. "We'll live out every stereotype Nat likes to push on us ninety-eight-year-olds."

"No we won't," Bucky says, his hold on Steve's hip becoming insistent, urging Steve closer. "Come here."

Steve goes easily, but he can't help teasing, "Oh? What happened to going to bed?"

"We're in bed," Bucky laughs. "I didn't say anything about going to sleep."

"And what did you have in mind, then?"

Bucky's heart is racing now, his breath quick with anticipation; he doesn't answer, just presses himself against Steve's chest and kisses him.

Steve isn't surprised by the move, and he welcomes Bucky eagerly. This kiss is different from any they shared before the war, and _much_ more different from the ones they'd shared on the front. It's eager, yet innocent in a way they never let it be before. This is a kiss just to kiss, to touch and feel and taste each other rather than as a means to an end, a way to keep themselves and each other from saying something they couldn't take back. 

It goes on at once for endless minutes and no time at all; when Bucky pulls back, he leaves his hand on Steve's face, and smiles. "How's that for a goodnight kiss?"

"Pretty damn good," Steve says - he just _knows_ his own grin is absolutely dopey. "But I'm not all that sleepy yet... Think we got time for one more?"

* * *

Bucky leaves again a few days later, without telling them where he's going or when he'll be back. Jarvis gives them regular status updates that avoid the specifics, and Steve tells himself it's enough. It has to be enough.

He's hanging out with Sarah three days into Bucky's absence, trying to convince the both of them that it's enough, when Sarah turns to him and says, "My dad isn't sleeping on the couch anymore, is he?"

Steve almost fumbles the bowl of chips he'd been passing over. "Uh, no, no he's not," he says, eyeing Sarah with a curious look. 

Sarah looks right back, her gaze assessing. "He's sleeping in your bed," she says. "With you."

"Well, _I'm _certainly not sleeping on the couch," Steve jokes. 

Sarah blinks. "Why?"

Steve sobers, then, staying quiet for a moment as he thinks over his answer. "Because I love him, and he loves me," he starts. "And we sleep better when we're together."

"Are you his boyfriend?" Sarah asks, and then grimaces, like the word tastes wrong.

Steve's face is an almost exact mirror. "God, no. Not boyfriend, but... partner. Significant other. He's one of the most important people in the world to me, always has been."

"Partner," Sarah says slowly. "Right."

Steve narrows his eyes. "What are you getting at, missy?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, and she looks so like Natasha it's not funny. "He's my dad," she says, like she thinks Steve is stupid.

"Humor me."

"He's not happy," Sarah says. "Not even when he's with us. But he gets close."

"Yeah, it's... It's hard, sometimes. But he's been doing better. I'm glad for him, and I hope I'm _good for _him."

"So do I," Sarah says. "I don't want you to hurt him."

"I'm going to do my best to make sure that never happens," Steve says firmly. 

Sarah looks at him for a long moment before she nods, satisfied. "Good."

"There anything else you want to talk about while we're having this heart-to-heart?" Steve says, only half-joking. 

Sarah doesn't smile. "I still talk to a doctor once a week," she says. "My dad sees one when he's here. Why don't you?"

Steve blows out a breath; he really shouldn't have been surprised when Sarah went straight for the big issue. "Well, because I've been dealing with it just fine. And I can't... My problems aren't big enough to take time with a therapist from someone who needs it more." Sam had told him how bullshit that sounded, and maybe Steve agreed with him, the nights he couldn't sleep because he could feel the cold creaking over his skin through five layers of blankets, but in the light of day.... He'd cancelled more than one midnight-made appointment. 

Sarah raises her eyebrows. "You ever said that to my dad?" she asks.

"Once."

"Did he punch you?"

Steve snorts. "No, he didn't. Didn't like my answer, but he didn't punch me."

Sarah shakes her head. "You should talk to him again," she says, "about this."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "And why would that be?"

"Because I think you're wrong."

"About... whether I should go see a therapist?"

"Yes." Sarah fixes him with a hard look. "Okay, you weren't brainwashed and forced to murder people like my dad, but I was taught how to murder people and put in a freezer for years, and isn't that kind of what happened to you?"

Steve opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He doesn't have a good rebuttal to that, and Sarah knows it. "Alright. I'll talk with your dad," he sighs. 

Sarah smiles, soft and sad, and looks away. "Good."

* * *

Bucky sends word that he's on his way back a couple of days later; it's the middle of the night, and Steve's already been up since three in the morning - almost twenty-four straight hours - dealing with various meetings he's been putting off, so by the time Bucky comes back to the apartment, Sarah is asleep in her room, and Steve is passed out on the couch. 

Passed out, and in the throes of a nightmare that has him curled in the fetal position, arms wrapped around himself, muscles held so tight a touch might break him to pieces.

Bucky is aching and exhausted, but he's at his side in a moment, though he doesn't dare reach out just yet. "Steve," he murmurs. "Hey, wake up."

Steve wakes up almost immediately with a great gasp, sitting upright faster than Bucky can track. "Who - Bucky?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, keeping his voice hushed. "It's me. You're okay."

Steve takes in a shuddering breath, reaching out with one fumbling hand for Bucky's, holding tight enough to strangle once he finds it. "Yeah, yeah I know. Just takes a minute to sink in."

Bucky just squeezes back, more than willing to give Steve whatever he needs to take. "I've got you," he promises. "Take your time."

Steve shifts on the couch, tugging Bucky into the space created. "C'mere, please?"

"Yeah, Stevie," Bucky sighs. He slides onto the couch and gets his arms around Steve for good measure, tucks his face against Bucky's chest. "You wanna talk about it?" he asks after a moment.

Steve sighs, tension leaking out of him at the increased contact. "Nightmare about the ice," he mutters. "That I was still awake while frozen."

Bucky's eyes widen, even as he runs a soothing hand down Steve's back. "Were you?" he asks.

"No," Steve murmurs. "It was just like I went to sleep and woke up a few minutes later, but it was really seventy years. Rip van Winkle without the beard."

Bucky huffs a soft laugh, holds Steve tighter. "I wish I'd been there with you," he murmurs, and though it's a futile wish, it's no less sincere for it.

"Appreciate it," Steve murmurs. It's several more minutes of silence before he speaks again. "I've been thinking about going to talk to someone."

Bucky's hand tightens convulsively on Steve's hip. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Sass asked me why I wasn't talking to anyone like you and her are, and... Well, she kept at me until I agreed to talk to you about it."

Bucky pulls back so he can look Steve in the face. "She's a smart kid, huh?"

"Yeah, she is," Steve says with a laugh. "So, what do you think about it?"

"I don't think she's wrong," Bucky says carefully. "You don't have as many nightmares as me, but you have more than Sass. And..."

"And...?"

"And I've... noticed some things," Bucky admits.

"Like what kind of things?"

"Well, your nightmares," Bucky repeats. "Sometimes when you come out of them, I think you go into a panic attack. And you're... pretty damn sad, Steve."

Steve frowns. "I'm assuming you didn't mean that last bit as an insult."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Of course not. You know what I mean."

Steve takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he speaks. "Yeah, I do. And... you're not wrong. Never liked thinking about it much, though. But maybe it's time I did."

Bucky gives him a look that very clearly says _no shit_. "You know we've all got your six," he says. "Whatever happens, whatever shit gets dredged up."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs. "Guess I'll need to set up an appointment tomorrow. But for now, can we head to bed?"

"Yeah." Bucky gets to his feet, but holds a hand out for Steve. "Come on."

Steve takes Bucky's hand, and follows.

* * *

Steve sets up his appointment for a few days later, and his stomach feels like it's in knots the whole time leading up to the appointment. His therapist is nice enough; he doesn't push, just encourages, and when Steve doesn't want to talk about something, he leaves it alone. Steve's only there for an hour and a half, but by the time he makes it back to his floor he's more exhausted than he's ever been since he first walked into Stark's machine. He all but trips off of the elevator, and does let himself fall onto the couch beside Bucky with a groan. "I'm not leaking brain fluid, am I?" he mumbles, slumping over onto Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky makes a soft clucking sound, and sinks his fingers into Steve's hair. "Not much," he tells him, sympathetic. "How did it go?"

"Exhausting. I feel like one of those damn tanks ran me over, backed up, and ran me over again for good measure," Steve sighs. "But... I don't know. It's nice to talk about some of what happened with someone who doesn't have such a huge stake in the memories."

"I'm glad," Bucky says. "You make another appointment?"

Steve manages to summon a nod. "Yeah. Same time next week."

Bucky smiles and kisses Steve's forehead. "I'm proud of you."

Steve grumbles, but wriggles in a little closer nonetheless. "I hope you made something, I'm not cooking after that."

Bucky laughs. "I was feeling nostalgic, so I made cabbage soup. That okay?"

"Y'know what?" Steve says with a slow smile. "That sounds perfect."

* * *

Bucky stays long enough to make sure that Sass is okay and that Steve is settling into therapy, and then he's off again. He doesn't go so far this time, deciding to settle some scores a little closer to home, and he's grateful for it when Jarvis alerts him to an incident in New York. At first it doesn't sound too bad, a local villain and his robot army causing trouble, nothing the Avengers haven't handled before or can't handle again. But then something goes wrong.

All Bucky needs to hear is the little voice in his ear telling him, "_Sergeant, Captain Rogers is down,_" for him to drop everything and go straight back to New York. It takes him half a day at most, and Jarvis gives him status updates the whole time, reassuring him that Steve is alive and in a stable condition, but it does little to assuage the anxiety buzzing in his chest. It gets worse once he gets back to the Tower. The first person he sees is Sarah, and she flings herself at him. Before he gets his arms around her he registers that she looks like she's been crying.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, though he knows nothing of the sort. He looks over at Sam, who looks a little roughed up but otherwise fine. "Where is he?"

"In your room," Sam answers; he sounds far more exhausted than he looks. "It's rough, we just got back a little while ago from the fight, he hasn't had a chance to catch up with what happened."

"What happened?" Bucky demands.

"Long story short, Doom brought out these giant ass monster robots, one of them knocked him into the Hudson, and it's the middle of fucking winter," Sam sighs. "He managed to keep it together long enough to keep fighting once Tony got him out, but... He's just been under every damn blanket in the Tower since we got back."

Bucky curses loudly and colourfully. "Is anyone with him?"

"Nat is," Sam says. "We were waiting for you to get back before clearing out."

"All right." Bucky gives Sarah a squeeze, pulls back to look down at her. "You okay?"

Sarah nods. "Worried about Steve," she admits. "He's been quiet."

Bucky gives her a soft smile. "You gonna be okay if I go see him?" he asks.

Sarah nods again. "I'll stay with Nat when she comes out if you take me back later when Steve feels better."

"Of course," Bucky says. He gives her one last squeeze before he releases her, and continues in Russian, "_I love you, okay?_"

"_I love you, too,_" Sarah says quietly, smiling at Bucky before she goes to sit next to Sam. 

Bucky takes a moment to steel himself, and then knocks on their bedroom door, waiting barely a second before he opens it and lets himself in. The lump of blankets on the bed doesn't budge, but Natasha looks up, her gaze sharp in the gloom. Bucky doesn't say anything, just jerks his head in the general direction of the living room, and Sarah; she nods, stands, and takes her leave.

Bucky is all too happy to switch places with her, but she was sitting in the chair that usually holds their clean laundry until they can be bothered to put it away; Bucky goes straight for the bed. "Hey, Stevie," he murmurs, reaching out to place a tentative hand on the blanket lump. It isn't until he touches it that he realises it's shaking, almost vibrating, and his chest aches. "What trouble did you get into this time, huh?"

"Got dunked like the world's worst fair game," is mumbled from under the blankets after a long, shaky inhale. "Cold."

Bucky swallows hard. "I bet," he says, careful to keep the emotion from his voice. "How 'bout you let me in there to warm you up?"

There's a moment of silence, heavy with consideration, before a corner of the pile of blankets flips back. "Quick," Steve mumbles, barely visible through the opening. 

Bucky wastes no time slipping beneath the covers and pulling Steve into his arms. "Christ," he breathes, lips against Steve's temple as he settles the blankets around then again. "You are cold."

"Told you," Steve sighs, pressing closer. "It's the middle of fucking winter, and it took a few minutes to get out."

"Well I've got you now," Bucky tells him. He gets one hand on the back of Steve's head, the other on the small of his back, and pulls him in until they're pressed flush together. "We'll warm you up and you'll be fine, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Steve mutters, pressing himself impossibly closer. "Wanna stay here after, though." After a moment's hesitation, he asks, "How's Sass doing? I didn't... didn't see her on my way in."

Bucky starts to stroke Steve's back, trying to settle him. "Nat's got her now," he answers. "She's fine, just worried about you. We all are."

Steve sighs. "Yeah, Nat seemed worried. I'm fine, just. I just need to get back in the present, you know?"

"Where are you right now?" Bucky asks, though he knows the answer.

"After the plane went down, the back went under first," Steve says quietly. "I got thrown from the pilot's chair, back of the cockpit. Woke up soaking wet and freezing."

"Jesus," Bucky breathes. His hold on Steve tightens a fraction.

"Yeah. I know, rationally - you're here. I can feel you, and hear you, but..." There's a long pause, Steve wrestling with himself over whether to confess or not, but then a sigh, and: "I thought I could then, too. Not your arm, but..."

Bucky blinks. "What?"

"When ..., remember things, since the serum, I... I don't just remember. I relive them. And if I think about something - _imagine _something - hard enough, I can almost feel it, too," Steve admits. "In the plane, I wasn't able to think straight, so everything I thought about felt real."

"Like what?" Bucky asks.

"I remembered the last time we were together," Steve says; he's still shivering, but not as violently as before. "Imagined you were there with me, holding me. Calling me an idiot for crashing the plane."

"You were an idiot for crashing that plane," Bucky tells him, his voice hushed and fond. "But I'm here with you now."

"I know," Steve says, fumbling until he can take Bucky's left hand in his own. "This tells me you're real. I could never have imagined this."

Bucky huffs. "Yeah," he says. "Me either, Stevie."

They fall silent after that, time slipping away from them easily. Steve isn't sure how long they stay under the blankets before he finally feels like he can lose a couple. He doesn't say anything at first, the silence and warmth too comfortable to break, but eventually he sighs. "I think I'm good now," he murmurs. "We could probably take a couple blankets off."

Bucky, who has been quietly stifling for some time, is quick to do so, and even encourages Steve to pop his head out from beneath the rest of the blankets. Breathing easily for the first time since he entered the room, he kisses Steve's forehead, and offers him a tentative smile. "How's that?"

"Okay," Steve answers; he gives Bucky a sheepish smile when he catches sight of the sheen of sweat on his face. "Sorry for keeping you under there so long."

Bucky shakes his head. "It's fine," he says. "I just want you to be okay."

"Still," Steve says, but he drops the subject. "What time is it?"

"Late," Bucky says. "Do you feel like you could sleep?"

Steve considers that for a moment. "I think I need to eat first," he decides. 

Bucky nods. "You ready to come out?"

Steve sighs, but nods. "Yeah. I also really need to pee, I'll meet you in the kitchen?"

Bucky smiles. "I'll see what I can rustle up."

Sarah's asleep on the couch, and Natasha's still here. Steve manages a perfunctory nod in her general direction before heading for the bathroom; Bucky walks over, offers her a tight smile. "Thanks for sticking around," he says, keeping his voice low. "Everything okay out here?"

"She was worried about Steve," Natasha answers quietly with a soft look at Sarah. "He went back there pretty fast, but... The look on his face wasn't good, and she caught that."

"He's okay," Bucky says, and lets out a shaky breath. "He's... as good as he's gonna get tonight, anyway."

Natasha nods. "See if he'll talk about it some more," she suggests. "He's never opened up about this in the past, and that's hurting him as much as the dunking did. Do you need me to stay?"

Bucky hesitates, then shakes his head. "No," he says. "Get some rest, Nat."

Natasha gets to her feet, absently soothing Sarah when she grumbles, and then reaches over to give Bucky's shoulder a squeeze. "Just call if you need anything, one of us will come up," she promises. 

Bucky gives her a tired smile. "Thanks."

Sarah's still sleeping when Steve comes out of the bathroom; he passes a gentle hand over her hair, smiling when she leans into it with a soft noise. He continues into the kitchen, passing the digital calendar on his way - and pauses, frowning, when he catches sight of the date. "Hey, Buck? Weren't you supposed to be gone a few more days?"

"What?" Bucky asks, glancing away from the grilled cheese he's making to look at Steve over his shoulder. "Oh. Yeah, I guess."

Steve frowns, but not from displeasure - it's his 'thinking frown.' "Did... you come back early just for me? What about your mission?"

"Oh, come off it, Rogers," Bucky huffs. "You tellin' me you wouldn't drop everything and come running if you knew I was in trouble?"

Steve sighs. "You're right. I just... know how important this is to you."

"Not as important as you or Sass," Bucky tells him.

Steve concedes the point with a nod, turning to the pantry to grab something to drink. "Sandwiches almost done?"

Bucky sighs and turns off the heat under the pan. "Yup. Go wake Sarah up. Tell her if she doesn't wanna eat she needs to go to bed."

Sarah isn't hungry, so Steve helps her get ready for and into bed before he comes back to the kitchen. He and Bucky eat in silence for several minutes before Steve finally finds the words for what's on his mind, what's been on his mind since they emerged from the blanket nest. "It's not just the cold," he says, the words almost too loud in the silence they break. 

Bucky glances at Steve sidelong, continues to chew thoughtfully for a moment. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"I mean I can't - I can't deal with anything larger than a tub," Steve admits. "Showers are fine as long as they aren't cold, but I've never tried to take a bath since waking up, and I haven't gone swimming, either. Only time I've ever gone into the water was for a mission, and that was only because it was the quickest way for me to get on that ship."

Bucky swallows, turns to look at Steve properly. "You're afraid of water," he says.

"In some forms," Steve corrects. "Mostly medium to large bodies of it, I think. Haven't exactly been going out and testing it."

"But you know you don't want to," Bucky surmises.

Steve inclines his head. "Yeah, that I do know. Oddly enough, I don't have a problem with planes of any kind. But I've also never had to fly one since waking up, so."

Bucky's mouth twists. "Is this something you've told the doc about?"

Steve shakes his head. "Not yet. The cold was obvious but..."

"But?"

"Well, being afraid of water seems a bit... silly. It's everywhere, after all."

"Steve," Bucky says. "You almost drowned _twice_. One time was after I shot you three times, and the other time was right after I died. That's not silly."

"It still feels a bit silly," Steve sighs. "And I still... You remember what I was like, before all this." He gestures at his body, the one he certainly wasn't born with. "Living to see another century didn't make me any less prideful."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Were you ever too prideful to take your medicine when you had pneumonia?"

"You should know the answer to that," Steve retorts. "Remember the winter of '35?"

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Yes, I remember. But I also remember that once you were at the point where you were going to _die_, you sucked it up and did something about it."

"Well I'm not dying yet," Steve jokes, but it falls flat even to his ears. 

Bucky doesn't smile. "It'll kill you," he says. "You don't deal with this, you don't get help, it'll kill you. It's already come close a few times."

"I know," Steve says - sighs, really. "I know, Buck."

"Then do something about it," Bucky urges, gentle but firm.

"I'll think about it," Steve says; it's all he's willing to give right now, when he's still feeling tender, physically and emotionally. 

Bucky sighs, pulls Steve in for a soft kiss. "You ready to go to bed?"

"Yeah," Steve says, leaning in for one more. "Let me throw these in the sink first."

Bucky smiles. "I'll just check on Sass."

* * *

Steve almost doesn't bring it up, despite his promise to Bucky - but it's the thought of going back to their floor and seeing Bucky and Sarah's disappointed faces that convinces him to say something before his appointment is over. His therapist seems unsurprised when he confesses his fear of water, and they spend the last fifteen minutes talking about what Steve's experienced before, what he felt, and what he is and isn't comfortable with. "That's a good start," she says when their time is up for the day. "Just outlining what you do and don't know is a great first step." Steve just nods along until she lets him go, and then almost bolts to the elevator; he doesn't think she'll blame him, his hands had been shaking slightly by the time they were done, and it wouldn't be the first time he's made a hasty retreat.

Bucky and Sarah are waiting for him with a mindless movie when he gets back, and Steve sinks onto the couch between them gratefully, leaning against Bucky and drawing Sarah into his lap. "God, I love you two, have I said that lately?" he sighs.

"Yeah, Stevie," Bucky murmurs fondly, at the same time as Sarah says, laughing, "Not enough. Tell us again."

Steve grins and presses a kiss to Sarah's temple. "I love you." He twists slightly so he can catch Bucky's mouth with his. "And I love you."

Bucky smiles. "We love you too," he promises.

"We do," Sarah agrees. She sighs, leaning back against Steve. "I'm so glad you're my dad." She freezes a moment later.

Steve freezes too, glancing at Bucky briefly before he offers Sarah a small smile. "Well, I'm glad you're my daughter."

Sarah twists in Steve's hold and throws her arms around his neck, completely ignoring Bucky's _oomph_ when she socks him in the jaw. "Good," she mumbles, sounding only vaguely choked up. "You should be."

"I am," Steve confirms, pulling Sarah in closer so he can hug her tighter. "I am so proud of you, I love you so much."

Sarah peers at Bucky over Steve's shoulder, and he gives her a soft smile. "We're proud of you, too," she says.

They spend the rest of the day like that, curled up on the couch and watching television, only taking a few breaks for food and bathroom needs. Eventually, Sarah falls asleep for good, and Steve carries her into her bedroom. "Guess we should probably head to bed ourselves," he says around a yawn after closing the door behind himself. 

Bucky hums his agreement, but makes no move to stand up. "Can we talk first?" he asks.

Steve raises an eyebrow in question, but comes back over to the couch regardless. "Alright, shoot."

"You know I've always got your six, right?" Bucky asks.

"Yes," Steve says slowly, watching Bucky carefully. "What are you getting at?"

"I'll stay here for as long as you need me to," Bucky says. "I just-- I want you to know that."

It doesn't take long for Steve to put the pieces together. "You want to get back out there, finish the job."

"I won't go anywhere until you're ready," Bucky tells him. "But, eventually, yeah."

"Give me a couple days?" Steve asks. "I know you left in the middle of this last mission, but I'd like it if you stayed for a couple days before going back out."

Bucky gives him a soft smile. "It's nothing that can't wait, Stevie."

"Still, the sooner you get back out there, the sooner you'll be back for good," Steve reasons. 

Bucky laughs. "That's the theory," he admits. "But you and Sass come first."

"I know," Steve says, moving in so he can give Bucky a soft kiss. "And believe me, we appreciate it so much. But it's not like we're lonely, here, when you're gone. We miss you and worry about you, but we get that this is important to you, too."

"It is," Bucky agrees. "I can't stop until I know they're never going to hurt us again."

"So go do that, come back to us between missions, and then come back to us for good when you're done," Steve says, squeezing Bucky's hand, smiling. "We'll be here."

Bucky's answering smile is weak. "What if it's never over?"

"Then we find someone to help," Steve answers immediately. "There's plenty of people willing to kick Hydra in the teeth."

Bucky's expression is fond. "Not yet," he says. "Let's take some time. I'll get back out there, and then we'll see."

* * *

Bucky stays at the Tower for another week before he leaves to throw himself back into his personal assault on Hydra. He spends the next two months burning his way through most of Europe before he picks up a trail that leads him right back to the States. Turns out the head they cut off after DC has been quietly regrowing itself.

He doesn't tell Steve. He can't. Steve would want to get involved, would take it as a personal affront, and he can't risk Steve's life or anyone else's as well as his own. So he's real quiet about it, less obvious than he was in Europe, and spends another month uncovering and neutralising bases in his own back yard. But the harder he works, the longer it takes, the more he begins to think that maybe Steve was wrong. Maybe there'll never be an end to this.

Right after Bucky's finally accepted this, he goes back to DC. The base there is empty, Bucky is certain, and yet he found something in Florida leading back there that makes him... curious. Apprehensive. There's something he's missed, a threat he hasn't neutralised, something he's left behind. It takes him nearly an hour and a half to pick his way through the vault, deserted as he'd expected, but when he finds it... Well.

He thinks he just found an end to this.

* * *

Steve and Sarah miss Bucky when he's gone, but they keep each other company. And when that's not enough, there's always someone else in the Tower willing to spend time with them. 

They keep up with their appointments, and post-appointment cuddle sessions become a regular occurrence. It helps ground them, keep them from falling too deeply into the memories and feelings that their appointments dredge to the surface. They even do it when there's no appointment, because it's nice to spend time together. And when Bucky joins in, it's perfect. 

Right now, however, Steve isn't on the couch, and neither is Sarah. Bucky was supposed to be back a few days ago, but he'd sent a message saying he'd found another lead - and then another message saying he was bringing back something very important. Steve and Sarah are both pacing, waiting impatiently for the elevator to bring Bucky to them. When it finally opens, Steve and Sarah turn in unison - and their jaws drop. 

"Bucky. What - _Who _is that?"

Right on cue, the newborn baby cradled against Bucky's chest stirs, and starts to cry. Bucky shifts the infant in his arms, adjusting the blankets inexpertly swaddled around her, his eyes wide. It's been clear since he walked in that he's torn between untold fear and unbridled joy; neither has yet to win dominance over his expression. It takes a few moments for the baby to settle, and when all is silent again, he lifts his gaze to Steve's face. "This is my daughter."

Steve and Sarah exchange glances before they carefully move forward. "How - I mean, I thought that program was abandoned," Steve says, confused, as he looks at the absurdly tiny human in Bucky's arms. 

"Was she frozen like me?" Sarah asks, eyes wide; she's not quite as close as Steve, actually a step or two behind him, and she looks... worried. 

"Yeah," Bucky says. "But she's not a Widow like you and Nat." The look he gives Steve then is unreadable. "I found her in DC."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. "She was more recent?"

"Pierce commissioned her," Bucky says, looking like the word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "I don't know if she's a girl on purpose like the Widows. I don't even know what they wanted her for. I took her and burned the place to the ground."

"Good," Sarah says fiercely as she carefully steps closer, peering at the squirming bundle in Bucky's arms. "She's so tiny..."

"I know," Bucky murmurs, hushed. He glances up to give Sarah a smile. "Do you want to hold her?"

Sarah's eyes go wide and startled. "What?"

"She's your sister," Bucky says. "You can hold her if you want."

Sarah looks at Steve questioningly, but when he nods she moves closer and holds her arms out awkwardly. 

"Here," Bucky murmurs, leaning in to pass the baby to her. "Gotta support her head, yeah? She's not big enough to hold it up for herself yet."

Sarah shifts her hold accordingly, looking at the baby in her arms with an awed expression. "She's so small," she murmurs. 

Bucky smiles. "You were that small once," he says, though of course he can't be sure.

"Bet I was smaller," Steve jokes. 

"Steve wasn't much bigger than this when we were kids," Bucky confides.

Sarah's expression turns doubtful. "There's no way he stayed this tiny for so long."

"No, I was a shrimp," Steve confirms. "Never got up above five-four until Howard Stark intervened."

Bucky grins, gives Steve a wink as he lets some of the old Brooklyn seep into his voice. "But I thought he was the cat's meow even then."

Sarah giggles at that, her gaze falling back to her sister; Steve reaches out and gently brushes a hand over the peach fuzz that passes for hair. "We'll have to get some baby supplies."

"We need something more important than that first," Bucky says.

Steve and Sarah both look up then. "Oh?" they ask, in almost perfect harmony. 

Bucky smiles. "We need a name."

* * *

They name her Ava, and for the first few months, things are fine. Bucky stays at the Tower with his family, there's an increase of AIM attacks that Steve has to help the others with, but they still spend time together. Therapy is, occasionally, rough and there are a few minor spats when neither Bucky nor Steve has gotten enough sleep between looking after Ava and dealing with their respective nightmares, but still. Things are fine. 

And then Ava learns to crawl, and almost immediately starts walking as well. The Tower's AI and design are too good for there to be many problems with their apartment, but the problems arise when Ava goes down to the common area, or when she and her bouncy walker are taken to the gym with one of her dads while the other is out. She's curious, as all babies are, but with the serum in her blood, she's more capable than other babies at getting into potentially serious trouble. 

Then Steve comes back from a mission in Chile where he and the team followed some terrorists into a mine and he got dropped down a shaft. 

Bucky is the first to burst into his room at the hospital, but Sarah and Ava aren't far behind. "What the hell were you thinking?" Bucky demands, stopping just short of snatching up Steve's chart to examine it himself. "Of all the stupid, reckless _bullshit_ you've pulled before--"

"Dad," Sarah interrupts, nudging Bucky with an elbow. "You're scaring Ava."

"I'm sorry," Steve says before Bucky can say anything else. "But they needed a shield, and someone who could run stealth ops. I was one of the only ones available who could get there in time. I didn't plan on getting thrown down a mine shaft, trust me."

"You need to be more careful," Bucky says evenly, more mindful of his tone. "You have a family to think about now."

Steve sighs, reaching out until he can grab Bucky's hand, motioning Sarah closer as well. "I know. It was an accident, Buck."

Bucky holds on for as long as it takes Sarah to reach his side, and then he pulls away. "Well maybe it's time you stop putting yourself in harm's way," he says lowly. "You need to hold your daughters."

Steve bites back his initial response to that in favor of doing as Bucky says; getting his girls in his arms does wonders to settle most of the rest of his nerves. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes, getting Sarah settled on the side of his hospital bed and Ava against his chest. He's almost ready to be discharged, but the doctors want to keep an eye on him for a few more hours. Eventually, he speaks. "What do you mean by that, Bucky?"

Bucky huffs and looks away, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He's looking a lot softer these days, Steve realises, his hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and his Henley soft and worn. He's wearing _sneakers_. "Nothin', Steve," he says. "Forget I said anything."

Steve wants to say something, push the issue, but right now, he knows, it'll just lead to an argument. That's not something they need right now, especially not in front of the girls. "Okay," he sighs. "What did you and Sarah get up to while I was gone?"

Bucky huffs, and turns for the door. "Ask her yourself."

* * *

Steve's honestly thankful that Ava isn't old enough to talk yet; convincing Sarah to let the matter of Bucky just _walking out_ go for the moment is difficult enough. He has to reassure her multiple times that he's going to talk to Bucky about it before she finally drops the subject and instead starts chattering about what they'd done while Steve was gone and before he'd gotten injured. 

Steve is released from the hospital soon after that, and he and Bucky are quiet on the way back to the Tower - Steve very maturely sticks his tongue out at Sarah when she refuses to stop giving him meaningful glares - and all the way up the elevator. When they get to their floor, Steve gives Sarah's hand a squeeze. "Could you take Ava into the living room? I'm gonna have that conversation with Bucky now."

Bucky, who is currently trying to make the bedroom as injury-friendly as possible, hears him easily. He waits while Sarah wishes Steve luck and Steve takes a moment to steel himself, and greets Steve's stupid perfect face with a scowl when he comes into the room. "Get into bed," he says. "What conversation?"

”The conversation about how you walked out earlier,” Steve says. “And about why you were so upset about me getting hurt while doing my job.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "This is exactly why I walked out," he says. "Get into bed."

Steve moves closer, but doesn't get in just yet. "Not unless you promise not to leave this time until we've talked it out," he insists. "You're upset, obviously, and I want to understand why, and figure out if there's a way I can keep from upsetting you in the future."

"Of course there is," Bucky huffs. "It's just never going to happen."

"Well how can you know that if we don't try to work it out?" Steve reasons. "Maybe there's a compromise somewhere. But not if we're not talking."

"Get into bed," Bucky repeats, frustration sharpening the words. "Then we'll talk."

Steve finally complies, sliding under the covers before turning towards Bucky expectantly. "Alright, I'm in."

Bucky folds his arms, leans back against the wall opposite the bed. "We have a family," he says, "in case you haven't noticed."

Steve nods. "I know, and you're all important to me."

"So then you'll understand how you getting yourself killed kind of fucks with the family thing."

Steve winces. "Yeah, I know."

Bucky's jaw tightens. "So what are you going to do about it?" he asks, the words mild in a way that tells Steve a storm is brewing. "Or are we just expected to keep picking you up from the hospital until the day you end up in the morgue instead?"

Steve has the good sense to think about his response carefully. "I'm still Captain America, and an Avenger," he starts, "and there's no one yet who can really fill the space I do. But I've been talking with Nat and Fury about finding or training someone else. That was only just before I left for Chile. But you know I never signed up to be Captain America for life; I only wanted to fight in the war and then come home. Now, that means I want to come home to you and Sarah and Ava."

Bucky sighs. "I'm not going to give you an ultimatum," he says, "because that's not fair. I know how much the Avengers means to you. But you've got a great team. They can handle some of the slack if you were to take a step back if you want to start delegating."

"I know; that's why I started talking with Nat and Fury. We're thinking about seeing if Sam wanted to help out some."

Bucky looks surprised, but he nods. "Wilson's a good choice. Don't tell him I said that."

Steve chuckles. "I won't. It's still early, but I want to spend more time with you and the girls, I want us to be a family. I don't... I can't completely step away, not while I still have the serum, this training. But you're right, I've got capable people here that I can delegate things to."

Bucky looks satisfied with this, and Steve thinks they've reached a conclusion - until Bucky hesitates. "There's something else," he admits.

"Okay?" Steve says - asks, really, doing his best to keep his tone encouraging. 

Bucky takes a breath. "I want to move the girls out of the Tower."

Steve's eyebrows climb halfway up his forehead. "Why? This building is one of the safest places in the world."

"It's also one of the most targeted places in the world," Bucky says. "I don't want them to be around all of this. They deserve a normal life."

Steve tilts his head, conceding the point. "Where would we take them, though? You and I - well, me, really - are fairly recognizable. We'd still need to live somewhere we could be sure was safe."

"We don't have to go far if you don't want," Bucky says. "And I'm sure Stark can help with security."

"He probably could," Steve agrees. "I don't know, I've never thought about moving out of the Tower before. I'm not opposed to it, I just... I've only just started seriously thinking about stepping back, I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Well, maybe think about it now?" Bucky suggests. "Sass has been through enough, and I don't want to raise Ava right in the middle of everything."

"I will," Steve promises. "I want what's best for them, too. And what's best for us."

Bucky smiles. "Good," he says. "I'm gonna go check on the girls. You'll be okay?"

"I'm already mostly healed," Steve points out, amused. "Will you bring them in here? I want to spend some more time with my family."

Bucky's eyes go all soft and gooey. "Sure," he says. "They've really missed you."

"I missed you all, too. Now hurry up and get them in here," Steve laughs. "I'm about ready to fall asleep."

* * *

They spend the rest of the night curled up on the bed with Steve, talking in hushed voices about everything and nothing. Steve is on his feet again the next day, healed completely by the day after, but they make an effort to keep things light for the next few weeks. Sarah is quiet and clingy, and Bucky can tell Steve is putting more thought into moving out of the Tower than he'd originally intended to. His suspicions are confirmed when Steve pulls him aside one night and says he thinks they should see how Sarah feels about it.

Bucky doesn't feel hopeful or excited or relieved; he just nods, passes a squirming Ava back to her favourite father and leads them over to the sofa. "Sass?" he calls. "Can you come sit?"

"We've just got an idea we want to run by you," Steve adds as a reassurance. 

Sarah still looks wary as she makes her way over and sits down in the chair across from them. "What idea?" she asks.

"We've been thinking about moving," Steve says, not seeing any reason to beat around the bush. "Probably not very far, but I'm going to be backing off of the hero work, and your dad pointed out that this place is a pretty high priority target for raising a family in."

"That, and our floor only has two bedrooms," Bucky adds with a smile. "Ava's going to be too big to sleep in our room soon, and I doubt you want to share."

Sarah looks between them, her eyes wide. "Where would we go?" she asks.

"Probably not very far," Steve repeats. "Maybe to one of the suburbs, just outside the city. Somewhere a little quieter than the middle of one of the most alien-attack-prone cities in the world."

Sarah blinks. "What about Natasha, and the others?"

"Well, they'd probably stay here," Steve says thoughtfully, bouncing Ava in his lap to keep her from fussing. "None of them have told me they're thinking of moving. But if we stayed relatively close, we'd be able to visit here, or they could come visit us pretty frequently."

Sarah nods, bites her lip. "Would we be safe?" she asks, quiet now.

"Yes," Bucky says. "We'd never put you in danger, Sass."

"Never," Steve promises. "Tony would probably be willing to help us make sure we've got a good security system, but one of us would always be with you and Ava."

"Promise?"

Bucky nods. "We promise."

* * *

"Hey, Sass? There's new episodes of _Scorpion _out on Netflix. You wanna make some popcorn and watch them?"

Sarah looks up, her gaze going straight to Ava, her little head resting against Steve's shoulder. "Oh, no thanks," she says, with a soft smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll just watch it later."

Steve hesitates for a moment before soldiering on, determined. "You sure? Ava is just about ready for her nap, and we haven't done anything together for a while."

"Don't you want to sit with her?" Sarah asks.

"That's what a baby monitor is for," Steve points out, not unkindly. "Or in this case, Jarvis."

Sarah rolls her eyes, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Okay then."

Steve beams. "You wanna get the snacks ready while I go lay her down?"

Sarah's already halfway to her feet. "Sure, but if you take too long I might eat them all."

Steve does not, in fact, take too long - he wasn't lying about Ava being ready to fall asleep, she's out like a light as soon as her head touches the mattress. He asks Jarvis to let him know if anything out of the ordinary happens (Jarvis would anyway, Steve knows, but saying it out loud helps ease his mind regardless), and then heads back out to the living room in time to take one of the enormous bowls of popcorn from Sarah right before it tips over. "Got it," he says with a laugh, steadying Sarah with his other hand. "What do you want to drink?"

"Just water," Sarah says. She's smiling properly now, maybe for the first time all week. "I'll get the TV set up."

Steve fetches their drinks, grabbing a couple of extra bottles before he heads back to the living room, settling in beside Sarah. "Ready?"

So subtly Steve wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention, Sarah tenses up again, and draws her knees up to her chest, her gaze fixed on the TV as she selects the first episode. "Ready."

Steve doesn't bring it up right away - he waits until they've made it through the first episode before he remarks (with a casualty that fools neither of them), "You've been spending a lot of time by yourself lately."

Sarah shrugs. "Yeah," she says. "I'm a teenager. It's what we do, right?"

"Yeah, but... You don't have to, you know? You can talk to us, to me or your dad."

"About what?" Sarah asks, a little too sharply.

"About whatever's making you avoid me and Ava," Steve says, deciding to just bite the bullet. 

Sarah flinches. "I'm not avoiding Ava," she says, and then seems to realise her mistake. "Or you. I'm not avoiding anyone."

Steve shifts so he can face Sarah more fully. "You sure? Because you've definitely been spending less time around me, especially when I'm taking care of Ava. I'm not mad, or upset. I just want to know if I'm reading this situation right or if I'm imagining things."

Sarah has to look away from Steve's earnest expression. "You're not," she admits. "I'm just trying to give you guys some space."

"Why?" Steve asks; it could almost be mistaken for a demand except for his tone. He just wants to understand what's going on in Sarah's mind. 

"Because you need that, right?" Sarah asks. "She's a baby, and you have to... bond, with her."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't do other things while bonding with her," Steve says gently. "I don't have to devote _all _of my attention to her all the time."

"I know," Sarah says, defensive. "But you can. She's-- I know how much you love her."

"I do love her a lot," Steve admits freely. "But I love you just as much."

Sarah smiles, ducks her head. "It's not the same though, is it?"

"It might be a little different, because she's Ava and you're Sarah, but you're both my girls."

Sarah shakes her head. "She's your daughter," he says. "Like, really your daughter."

"You're my daughter, too," Steve says, reaching over to put a hand on Sarah's shoulder and squeeze gently. "You're just as much my daughter as Ava."

"But I'm not," Sarah says, like she can't help herself. "Not really. You're all Ava's ever known. You can raise her. She'll call you 'Pa'."

Steve's heart squeezes in his chest, and he decides to try a different approach. "Well, I've always thought that family was a lot more about who you choose than who you're born to, in the end. I'm raising Ava because I'm your dad's partner, and that's what partners do, they work together to raise their kids until they're old enough to choose their family for themselves. But when I chose your dad again, all those months ago, I knew it meant choosing you, too. And I _wanted _that - I still do. I chose you to be in my family, if you want to be here."

Sarah's eyes are wide when she meets Steve's gaze again. "Oh," she says. "I-- Yeah. I want to."

Steve's smile is encouraging. "Yeah? I'd be real glad to keep calling you my girl."

Sarah smiles back, though hers is small and shy. "Well it's fine with me."

Steve's grin brightens, but then dims again, turning just as shy as Sarah's. "Y'know, Ava isn't the only one who could call me 'Pa.' You don't have to, but... It's an option."

Sarah's expression slackens with shock. "...Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want to be my daughter, you don't have to keep calling me 'Steve,'" he says. "Like I said, you don't have to call me 'Pa,' either; whichever you're more comfortable with. But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to call me 'Pa.'"

Sarah's eyes have a suspicious shine to them when she turns back to the TV, but her smile has returned. "All right," she says. "Pa."

Steve doesn't even try to resist the urge to pull Sarah into his arms. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do," Sarah tells him, melting all-too-willingly into Steve's embrace. "I love you, too."

* * *

Once they finally propose the idea of moving from the Tower to the rest of the team, the ball starts rolling faster than Steve and Bucky can keep up with. In no time at all, they’ve found a house they all love - a nice little two-story place just outside of New York City with plenty of space for supersoldiers and their daughters to run and exercise - and Pepper has firmly taken all security decision-making power away from Tony. 

Steve and Bucky appreciate his enthusiasm, they do, but they don’t need their front doorbell to be able to electrocute someone, or for the lights on the front porch to hide small laser turrets. They do, however, accept the Jarvis extension gratefully.

Sam accepts the offer of being part-time Captain America - “Just for a while, until I get used to being in the spotlight,” he says. “Besides, you can’t just disappear off the face of the Earth, people will riot, man.” - and Steve and Natasha start working with him to make sure he’s caught up and ready to take on more responsibilities as Steve starts stepping down more.

It’s well into fall by the time all of the security upgrades are installed in their new house and it’s ready to be moved into. Neither Steve nor Bucky had realized they’d accumulated so much crap while they were living at the Tower, and Sarah has as much stuff as the two of them combined. Moving everything and everyone is quite an ordeal; poor Ava gets passed from father to father to sister and back again for a few hours before finally refusing to leave Steve’s arms without wailing. Steve accepts this by deciding to get a headstart on unpacking the essentials while Nat, Bucky, and Sarah finish bringing in the rest of the boxes from the vans. Tony is fussing with some last-minute updates to Jarvis’s operating system in the hallway, and Sam is busy babyproofing everything he can, Thor helping him by sending surges of electricity out to find every outlet in the house. Bruce has already unpacked and claimed the kitchen for the day, so Steve leaves him to it and starts on the bedroom boxes. 

He manages to get the majority of his and Bucky’s clothing unpacked, Sarah’s bathroom essentials and some of her clothes out and put where she can find them, and even get Ava’s crib set up while Tony runs Jarvis through the baby monitor system one last time to make sure everything’s working fine. They all break for dinner - homemade pretzels, burgers, and fries courtesy of Bruce, Thor, and Sam - before Steve, Bucky, Sarah, and Ava are left alone for their first night in the new house. 

Sarah goes to bed without a fuss, eager to spend some time organizing her things just the way she wants them, and even though Ava didn’t do anything, she still seems exhausted by the flurry of activity the day has been; she’s asleep even before Bucky carries her into the nursery. After putting her down he heads down the hall and finds Steve already in bed, wriggling against the sheets. “Remind me to send Pepper a fruit basket or something; these sheets are _amazing_. So’s the mattress.”

Bucky grins. "We're old men now, Stevie," he says. "We need to make sure we have proper lumbar support."

Steve can't help the laugh that escapes him. "Old men? You, maybe; I slept for seventy of those years, remember?"

Bucky smirks. "Then we'll have to find another use for such a good mattress."

"You're a dirty old man," Steve says, grinning. "Wanna get over here and see if I can make you sore enough for Nat to notice tomorrow?"

Bucky grins. "I think that's an excellent idea."


End file.
